


Night at the Museum

by epcot97



Series: Elegy Series [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Identity Reveal, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 51,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epcot97/pseuds/epcot97
Summary: With the annual school slumber party at the Louvre fast approaching, Hawkmoth decides to make the most of a tantalizing opportunity to leverage the students from Dupont as a way to draw out the Heroes of Paris and get them to make the ultimate sacrifice.  As he carefully sets his plan into motion, Ladybug finds herself struggling to understand why Chat Noir is acting so strangely around her – and why the feline superhero has also suddenly taken such a keen interest in her alter-ego.  For while some part of her worries that he’s getting far too close to uncovering her true identity, her heart feels it’s quite natural to have her kitty in her life.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Elegy Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1480154
Comments: 54
Kudos: 59





	1. Starting Over

**Author's Note:**

> _Historian’s Note:_
> 
> _This is the fourth in a series of adventures set in the universe first created by Elegy for a Chat, roughly taking place a few minutes after Time & Again ends and in that gray area of time that may or may not have existed between the second and third seasons of Miraculous. Though not required reading, you might find it beneficial to review those before continuing._
> 
> _This story was written before the third season of Miraculous had been released in the United States; though the author attempted to avoid spoilers at all costs, they did become aware of a few plot points that were planned as part of that season but not before a substantial portion of this story had been completed. Any similarity of this tale to episode(s) that aired in the third season are purely coincidental and more due to logical intuition on the part of the author based on what had aired up to season three._

## Chat Noir

I was sitting on Marinette’s balcony, staring at the pendant I’d given her the night of the Sweethearts Ball. 

She didn’t remember I’d given it to her, of course, a direct result of the memory blocking potion she had downed earlier in the evening. It had been (in my view) a misguided attempt to protect our small circle of Miraculous Holders by erasing our knowledge of each other’s true identities.

I’d found out who Ladybug was inadvertently while we were fighting off Last Walker a few months ago; then, literally a few days ago, discovered my best friend was Carapace, and Marinette’s was Rena Rouge. She’d told me that Nino, Alya and Chloe had already taken the potion, and had anticipated I would not be a willing participant to the action. She’d tried to incapacitate me long enough to get the potion into me, but I’d managed to fend her off; it had been a pyrrhic victory, though as she’d taken it herself while I watched in horror.

We’d run our normal patrol after she’d recovered from the potion’s immediate effects, but my heart hadn’t been in it. After we finished up for the evening, I’d automatically leaned in to kiss her as had become my custom, only to have a firm hand slap across the cheek remind me that all was not as it had been. That seemed an opportune time to part for the evening; I’d started toward the mansion but found myself instead on my favorite rooftop overlooking Notre Dame. 

I was still angry that she’d done it. Angrier, perhaps, that she’d not discussed it with me, and had taken advantage of my trust to slip a Mickey Finn into my coffee to try and incapacitate me. It was partially offset by knowing she thought she’d had my best interests at heart, but considering how far we had progressed in our relationship, it was still a bitter pill to swallow. Above all, I was angry that she had intentionally taken herself away from me. That hurt worse than anything that had come before it.

I fiddled with the ring she’d given me, twisting it slightly and half tempted to yank it off and super-throw it into the river. I changed gears and wondered if I should just throw myself into the river; the shock of the cold water might restore some straight thinking, something I was sorely lacking at the moment.

Ladybug had inadvertently given me enough information to play as though I’d been part of the plan, so that meant I knew the four of them were now clueless. I also knew that I should no longer know how to get to Master Fu, which meant asking for his help in this (or any other matters) would be problematic.

I was on my own. And I felt certain there had to be a way to counteract the potion. Ladybug had said it was only temporary; I just needed some trigger to have it fade faster. 

My feline ear pivoted as it often did and I heard Ladybug drop onto her rooftop patio. Where things stood now, she would have gone around the Bakery in a big loop to ensure I hadn’t seen what direction her home base was; she also, clearly, didn’t remember my rooftop two blocks over had a clear view of her patio. 

I turned and used my enhanced vision to watch as she transformed back to Marinette. She seemed to be conversing with no one, and then had started pacing, clearly troubled. My heart broke slightly seeing it, and I wanted nothing more than to take her into my arms…

_Hang on. This might be an opportunity._

I leapt off the roof and ran vertically around the block, making one final leap to land gently on my usual chimney just above her patio. “Good evening, Princess,” I said.

She turned from where she’d been leaning against the railing, clearly tired but also unable to stop thinking. “Chat Noir! What a surprise.”

I moved down the railing beside her and perched, perfectly balanced as always. “I was passing by and saw you out here,” I started. “Is everything all right? You look troubled.”

“No, Chat,” she said quickly. “Just tired, I guess.”

It was when she’d turned back toward the railing I’d seen the glint of the necklace, and a smile burst into life on my face. “That, Princess, is quite purretty,” I said, pointing to it with the end of a claw. “I had no idea you were an admirer.”

She followed my direction and saw the pendant in her little bonsai tree, shock clearly outlined in her expression. “What?” She went over and picked it off the branch it had been gently swaying from. I had to believe, in my heart of hearts, Marinette had put it there on her way out to meet me with the potion and had clearly planned on returning and straightening up before taking the final flask herself. My unexpected struggle with her had led to an improvised ending, and she’d returned after forgetting everything – including the pendant. 

“Where did this come from?” she asked as she pulled it into the light to get a better look at it. I could see her tracing the details with a finger, and her mouth compressed into a single line the way it almost always did when she was mentally chewing on something. 

“It doesn’t matter,” I said wickedly as a plan began to form in my mind. “But I bet it looks beautiful on you.”

“Thanks, Chat,” she said, still confused.

I continued to smile. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get some rest,” I said at length. “But I am always happy to lend an ear if you need one.” I emphasized my point by rotating one of my feline ears in her direction.

“Thanks, Chat,” she said. “See you around?”

“Count on it,” I winked, and fell backwards from the railing into a roll and tuck, using my baton to spring upwards toward the next building. I started to run across the rooftops toward home, pulling together the elements of a tactical plan to bring Ladybug’s memories back.

Much depended on how Marinette reacted to Adrien in the morning.

* * *

## Adrien

Thursdays were afternoon lab days for our science classes, after a full morning of lectures. Father had already informed me that I’d be leaving school after lunch for a photo shoot at the Grand Palais, so I’d only have the morning with Marinette.

Gorilla dropped me off at the main entrance earlier than normal, and I bounded into the main courtyard looking for my gaggle of friends. Nino and Alya were already there, but I couldn’t see Marinette. I headed in their direction and joined them. “Hey guys,” I said.

“Dude,” Nino said. Alya just nodded at me, and appeared to be fixated on something on her phone.

“What’s with her?” I asked Nino.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “She’s been re-watching several videos on her blog that she says she didn’t make.”

I looked over her shoulder. It was difficult to recognize at first, but then I realized it was the interview she’d conducted with me when I (well, technically, Chat Noir) had publicly declared my love for Ladybug – and why I was taking Marinette to the Ball. “I don’t remember doing this,” she murmured. I could tell it was bugging her deeply.

“Huh,” I said, shrugging. “That looks like you,” I said helpfully.

“I know, right?” she said. She wandered away, working her phone.

“She’s been like that since yesterday,” Nino said. “I can’t even talk to her.”

“Huh,” I repeated. “Have you seen Marinette yet?”

“No,” he said, and then he fist pumped me. “Dude, later.”

I found myself alone in the wide open courtyard, surrounded by my classmates. It was almost like my first day, when I didn’t know anyone. I waited a bit longer for Marinette, but at length headed to first period.

We were well into the lesson when she appeared, late, and slid into her seat behind me. Late enough, actually, that the period ended ten minutes later. As we stood to head out to our next class, I casually asked: “Are you okay, Marinette? It’s not like you to be late.”

“A-a-a-drien, hah, you late me? Nah,” she said, completely flummoxed in my presence. 

For once, it warmed my heart to see it, since she hadn’t apparently removed her Adrien-crush related memories, only the ones after we’d become a couple. “Uh, okay, well see you in class,” I said as I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

I’d only made it down a few steps before I saw the akuma in our courtyard. Why we seemed statistically more probable to have akumas than any other location in Paris was a mystery I’d never delved into.

This time around, it appeared to be the night janitor, and he was riding on the back of one of those floor polishing devices; I didn’t immediately see why my classmates were screaming until I noticed he was holding a feather duster in one hand. I watched, fascinated, as he tapped one of my classmates with it and he immediately transformed into one of those robotic cleaning gizmos. In fact, there were several dozen of them now roaming the floors, the walls, and even the wrought iron work, busily scrubbing every conceivable surface.

 _That’s a new one_.

I backed up and found, ironically, an empty janitorial closet, and locked the door. Plagg came floating out. “I hope she’s ready for this,” I said to my kwami.

“I’m surprised you’re even talking to her,” he huffed. He’d taken the whole episode a bit personally.

“We’ll get her back,” I said. “I know we will.”

“Optimist,” he said.

“Plagg – claws out!”

* * *

## Chat Noir

The green transformation wave washed over me, and I burst out of the closet as Chat Noir, and leapt to the railing ringing the level above the main courtyard. I needed a sense of the Janitor’s movements before I could come up with a plan of attack. “This place has never looked better, friend,” I said loudly, drawing his attention. “I have a feline we might want to have you around more regularly.”

He turned his floor polisher toward me and aimed his feather duster in my general direction. I leapt sideways, narrowly avoiding a fusillade of feathers, sneezing in the process. One hit a student who’d been running behind me, and he dropped into machine mode, scrubbing happily away. “Sorry,” I said to the kid as I spun up and around another burst heading in my direction.

“Look,” I continued as I leapt over to the far side of the mezzanine. “I’m not above a little preening myself, but do you really need all of these helpers?”

I was rewarded with another burst of feathers, which I scooted around. I pulled my baton out and cracked it into my catarangs, hurling them at the feather duster. One hit and knocked it out of his hand; the other was a clean miss, but embedded itself into the wall outside the gym. That left me one baton short.

I pulled myself over the edge of the railing and dropped to the main floor, avoiding the robots, and scuttled toward the fallen feather duster. I’d almost reached it when three of the robots suddenly swerved and caught my foot; I fell forward and skidded just out of reach of the duster. 

Down turned out to be a bad position. The robots turned on me en masse and started to pile on, scrubbing away as they did so. I batted off the first round and tried to stand up, but the floor had grown slick with the soapy solution they’d been using; I skittered and went down again before being able to deploy my claws properly. The second round piled on five deep, and though I managed to get a few off, they successfully pinned me to the floor, arms splayed out in front of me.

At that point, it occurred to me that Ladybug had yet to appear. Since she technically had been just behind me, I was a little surprised, but had no time to really think about it. Janitor was headed toward me and the now conveniently exposed Miraculous. I tried for another burst of strength to get the manic robots off me, but the position they had me in prevented getting any traction on the floor.

 _Lovely_.

“I did take a bath this morning,” I said as Janitor rolled closer. “Did I miss a spot?”

“No,” he finally said. “You are actually pretty clean, aren’t you?”

“I try,” I said, wondering if that was a compliment or not. “So, can we talk? Most villains have something they want – aside from the Miraculouses, of course.”

“Everything must be clean,” he said, rolling within a meter of my hand. “Everything.”

“That is a tall order,” I observed, “given the size of our city.” I tried again to budge and managed to only jam my chin into the concrete as I slipped. “Ow… that’s gonna leave a mark…”

_Where are you, Ladybug?_

I tried another tactic and rammed my claws into the concrete and pulled. I managed to move forward, which was the wrong direction, actually. But it had shaken off a few of the robots, so I tried again, slightly sideways with one arm, and yanked, hard.

Multiple robots fell off this time, and I managed to free my other arm enough to yank myself further away with another claw burst, this time sending me halfway across the floor and away from the Janitor, trailing robots in the process. I rolled into the corner of the room and into a crouch, claws planted in the wall to keep me upright. “Does this wash also come with a wax?” I asked. “I don’t really need one, but I could use a dryer for my hair,” I added, shaking the suds out of my mane. 

The robots turned toward me, with Janitor behind. I started to claw my way up the wall and out of immediate danger, lifting myself quickly to the next level. On my way up, I spied Marinette coming out to the classroom, eyes firmly planted on her phone.

_What the…?_

I flung myself off the wall, and used the railing for a leap across the space. I grabbed her in mid-air, narrowly getting her out of the path of Janitor’s duster, which he’d retrieved and trained on her. I curled my body around hers and rolled into a controlled crash on the landing, protecting her as much as I could. Her phone went flying out of her hand and smashed into the wall.

“Okay?” I asked quickly.

“Yes,” she said, as she took in the scene. “I’m fine, Chat. Don’t worry about me.”

 _I wouldn’t normally,_ I thought. “Hide in that closet there,” I said helpfully, hoping her alter ego would get the hint. “I’ll come back for you when it’s safe.” I poured some gas on the flame. “Sooner or later, Ladybug should get her to help me wrap this up.”

Something flickered on her face, but she kept her response to herself and simply snuck into the closet. When I heard it lock, I bolted for the far side of the mezzanine to give her space to transform. Janitor was still mopping up the floor below, seemingly unable to get up the steps to hassle me; I decided to take advantage of that again and perched on the railing. 

“I’d say the last round was a draw,” I mused, twirling my tail as I sat there. “Care for a rematch?”

He turned toward me again, pointing the feather duster at me. I noted that while he was unable to get up the steps on that floor polisher, his robots had no such issue and had started swarming in my direction like ants coming out of the hill. My baton was still in pieces on the first floor, so I had limited options; I wound up leaping away from the railing and hooking a claw in one of light fixtures, then pulled myself over to the beams that held the roof over the courtyard. It would take a bit for them to climb _that_ high.

That is, until they started rounding the roof edge and coming down on top of me in droves. How they’d gotten to the roof was beyond me, but they were now pouring through every access point: skylights, windows, you name it. I did my best to work my way around them, and had managed to get nearly all the way across to safety before I inadvertently wound up under an air conditioning duct that blew open with hundreds of the little critters. That blasted me all the way down to the main floor again, and they swarmed me at double speed, burying me before I could even think about wriggling out from beneath them.

Janitor started in my direction again, and this time multiple robots were laying on the back of each hand, preventing me from tensing into a clawing motion. They had learned from their past mistake, which was intriguing if it hadn’t been outright terrifying.

“Well,” I said. “I’ll spot you this round. Best two out of three?”

I tried not to think about the fact that Ladybug _still_ hadn’t appeared. “Now would be a good time,” I said out loud.

“For what?” Janitor asked.


	2. All By Myself

## Chat Noir

It was quickly becoming apparent to me that I was flying solo this time out. That was problematic on a number of levels, not the least of which being I had no way to de-evilize the akuma, though I had been known to capture more than one and patiently wait for my partner to arrive. 

From my very prone position, I could just barely crane my neck around to get a bead on the janitorial closet I’d left Marinette in. I’d been intentionally _not_ paying attention to it in order to allow Ladybug to magically appear, but the absence of her arrival now had me seriously worried something had happened to Marinette. In or out of costume, my primary mission was always her protection.

Janitor was closing in on me.

I took a deep, centering breath, closed my eyes, and focused. I was going to get just one shot at this.

My eyes popped open and I growled, as low as I’d ever growled, and slowly, very slowly, started to push my body up and through the mass of machines crawling all over me. It took an insane amount of muscle effort, and despite my super strength, I could feel sweat actually trickling down my face, stinging my eyes. I continued to push, and hit critical mass, blasting myself into the air and shucking off the remaining robotic helpers. I landed in a pounce-crouch, and then leapt up and away from Janitor, snagging his feather duster as I went by – suppressing a series of sneezes in the process.

_Why don’t they use fake feathers in these things?!_

I hit the side of the courtyard wall, hard, with one clawed hand and hurled myself up past the basketball rim, then leapt sideways back to the mezzanine level, landing again into my pounce-crouch. I was just in front of the janitorial closet, and leapt toward it.

The door appeared to be intact, but I was worried enough that I stood up and ripped it off its hinges, sending it flying down into the courtyard in the process.

Marinette was huddled in the corner, hands over her head, trying to press herself behind the sink.

_What the…?_

“Why didn’t---” I started to say, then thought better of it. “I mean, it’s okay, Princess,” I said, trying to keep my anger in check. “I have one tiny thing to do still, and then I’m getting you out of here.”

I frantically searched for something, _anything_ , I could use to temporarily hold the akumatized feather duster. Or even the akuma. My memory flicked back to a time when I’d had to sit atop a mixing bowl, trapping a frisky akuma while I waited for Ladybug to appear. With Marinette in her current state, sitting atop an upended ten-gallon jug of floor wax didn’t seem like a good option this time out.

_Why in the name of Miraculous they had only given Ladybug the ability to dispose of these things…?_

As if to emphasize the insanity, I tried, and failed, to suppress a violent series of sneezes that left stars in my vision.

There was one other option and though I was loath to pursue it, it was the only immediate way out of the current situation. I grabbed the duster with both hands and snapped it in two, and watched as the purple akuma fluttered up and away, knowing full well I had likely made a bad situation much, much worse. But something was wrong with Marinette and I needed to deal with that first.

I scooped her up in one arm, and made for the mezzanine. The akuma spell had broken, and a partial restoration had taken place; students had reappeared, and the janitor was standing, stupefied, in the center of the courtyard. Normally I would ensure everyone was safe, but instead I slid side-saddle style down the staircase railing, retrieved the two parts of my baton, and then leapt for the exit.

Marinette was in a daze of some kind, and made no comment at all as I ran out to the street in front of the school. Putting my baton back together while holding on to her was a challenge, but at length, I was able to finally extend it into vault mode, and started my way toward the one place I assumed she would feel safe.

I carefully dropped us on her balcony patio, and gently lowered her into the chaise lounge. I had no idea how her parents would react to me at this point, but threw caution to the wind and pulled open the skylight to her bedroom, enroute to her family kitchen.

I rounded the corner and gave her mother the shock of her life. “Chat Noir!” she said, clutching her chest. For a moment, I was afraid I was going to need to call for an ambulance, but she recovered quickly. “What’s wrong?”

I suppose anyone suddenly running across a cat-themed superhero in their private space would assume the world was ending; I’d have to work on my entrances. “Madame,” I said quickly. “Marinette has had a bit of a shock. I need a glass of water and…” I scanned the counter, nodding, “ten of those beauties?”

“Here,” she said, shoving the entire plate of freshly baked macarons at me while she poured a glass of water. “Let’s go,” she said, and she followed me back to the roof.

Marinette was still sitting in the chaise, exactly as I had left her. She was staring at nothing in particular.

Her mom leaned in and gently tried to get her to take a sip from the glass of water she’d brought up; after a moment, Marinette took the cup in her own hands, and then, for the first time, seemed to become aware of where she was. 

She looked at me. “Chat Noir?” She turned to her mother. “Maman? Why am I home?” 

“There was an akuma at scho--- at _your_ school,” I said, editing myself on the fly. “I’ve temporarily dealt with it,” I continued, “but I need _Ladybug_ so I can clean up the rest.” I couldn’t help emphasizing the fact that she’d left me hanging; my simmering anger was getting the best of me.

Her eyes narrowed in a very Ladybug manner. “The akuma got away?”

_What the Hell? She's upset with me?_

“Yes,” I said, my green eyes boring into her blue. “I don’t know if you know,” I said, irony dripping with every word, “but only _Ladybug_ has the ability to de-evilize an akuma. I have many talents, but that is not one of them.”

Okay, so maybe I was laying the passive-aggressive on a bit thick. But _she_ hadn’t been buried under scrubbing bubbles, either.

She glared at me, but to her credit, stayed in character. “I, uh, I’m sure she had a good reason for not appearing.”

“She’s never let me down before,” I said. “Well, only once before,” I added, meaningfully. 

“No,” she said, staring at me but not seeing me, “she’s never let Chat down…”

I turned to her mother. “I’d like to stay here for a bit,” I said, “if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all, Chat,” she said, somewhat taken aback by my question. “You know you’re always welcome here,” she added, raising an eyebrow much like her daughter did.

“Thanks, Madame,” I bowed slightly.

As she retreated through the skylight, I pulled over an empty planter and upended it, then perched, cat-style, atop it facing Marinette. I was torn between coming right out and telling her I knew her secret identity, and then demanding an explanation of her behavior versus finding out in a more tactful manner why she appeared to have been frozen.

Tail twitching behind me, I opted for tact.

“You were really out of it,” I observed.

“Yeah,” she said, looking away from me. “I’ve felt off since yesterday, and I don’t understand why.” She drained her glass and started to eye the macarons I was still holding.

I put out a paw. “Here, let me refill that for you,” I said, offering her the plate of cookies in exchange.

She handed it to me and I dropped down and walked over to the skylight, flipped through the opening and landed on the carpet. I was about to go down to the kitchen when Tikki came flying out from somewhere.

“Chat Noir!” she cried. “I am so, _so_ very sorry.” She actually flew up to my arm and hugged me with that cute little body of hers.

I raised a masked eyebrow. “Wait, you still remember?”

Tikki turned her cute face upward. “Of course, silly kitty. That potion only works on Miraculous Holders.”

I plopped myself down on the floor, mission momentarily forgotten. “That must be making your life complicated,” I said. “And thank you,” I added. “It has been a rough couple of days.” I inclined my head toward the roof and kept my voice low. “How bad is it?”

“Well,” she said, “she left me behind today, if that’s any indicator.”

“What?!” I nearly yelped. “She did _what?!_ ”

“Yes,” Tikki said sadly. “She is not herself.”

I rolled my wide green eyes. “No wonder I was on my own.”

“There was an _akuma?!_ ” Tikki said. She was as furious as I’d ever seen the normally chipper kwami.

“Yeah,” I said. “And I let it get away so I could protect Marinette.”

The little kwami was shaking in anger. “This is a disaster,” she said. I tried not to smile – she sounded exactly like Marinette.

“We can fix it,” I said, “If I can get Ladybug for a bit.” I glanced to the ceiling. “Can she transform?”

“If she has me, yes,” TIkki said hotly. “Sorry, Chat. I’m a bit flustered.”

I smiled my Chat grin. “I’ve never seen you like this, Tikki.”

“Plagg has,” she said, oddly.

“Look,” I asked, “I’m in a bit of spot here. Is there any way I can undo the potion? Before she tried to dose me, Ladybug mentioned it would ultimately wear off. I’d love to be able to prompt it along, but I don’t think I can go to Master Fu for help.”

“No,” Tikki said. “You can’t. Master Fu won’t be able to bail us out this time.”

“Can you tell me _anything_?” I asked, pleading almost. “What exactly was in that potion?”

Tikki looked thoughtful for a moment, clearly replaying the events she’d seen while with Marinette. “Master Fu told her the potion, when given to a Miraculous holder, would specifically remove any memories related to your secret identity or your relationship with Marinette/Ladybug,” she said. “Specifically, the romantic portion of that relationship,” she added, “since it was supposed to revert everyone to where they were pre-Last Walker.” 

She looked up at me with her big eyes. “The emphasis was _supposed_ to be on protecting your secret identity, and your knowledge of hers. Carapace and Rena should have also lost those memories as well, but nothing else.”

I glanced up at the roof again. “I feel like it’s not actually working quite as planned,” I said. “Is there any way we can undo the damage?”

“I don’t know, Chat,” she said. “Maybe? It’s not magic that we normally make use of. I’ll have to ask the others.”

“Plagg didn’t offer any options either,” I said morosely. 

“The two of us are generally always on duty,” Tikki said apologetically. “The other kwamis are not used as often and have more time to study the old ways.” 

She hugged my arm again. “Go get the water, Chat, and I’ll get to Marinette. If I learn anything, I’ll get a message to Plagg.”

“On it,” I said, as I unfolded myself and refilled the glass from the sink in the kitchen.

By the time I returned to the rooftop, Tikki was nowhere to be found – which, under the current rules of engagement, was completely appropriate. She must have had quite the conversation with Marinette, though, as her cheeks were full on inflamed, and her eyes narrowed in anger.

“Not for me, I hope,” I said cautiously as I handed her the glass, partially worried she was about to toss it at me.

“What?” she said.

“Those angry eyes of yours. Have I done something wrong?”

“Oh – no, Chat. Nothing like that,” she said, sipping. She turned back toward me, and smiled. “I’m feeling more like myself,” she said. “If you need to be somewhere else…” she said, pointedly.

I got the hint. “Of course, Princess,” I said automatically. I stepped back and pulled out my baton. “I’m going to swing by later this evening, if that’s all right? You gave me quite the scare.”

“Don’t you have, like, patrol or something?” she said quickly.

_Careful, mon amour._

“How do you know about that?” I asked, carefully. “But yes, we normally do have patrol each evening, but I’ll talk to Ladybug about it – I don’t think she’ll mind me making a side trip.” I paused, a little dramatically if I did say so myself. “If I see her…”

“I’m sure you will,” Marinette offered. “Now, _go_.”

I couldn’t help my Chat reaction – I stood at attention and saluted. “Yes, mademoiselle,” I said acidly. As I backed to the railing and fell over it backwards, the last thing I saw was her arched eyebrow.

I let myself tumble end for end before extending the baton and springing up to the roof opposite the Bakery, making a point of visibly heading toward the school. I had no idea if that was the right place to start, but I knew Ladybug well enough to assume she’d want to retrace the scene. Once I was out of line of sight of the Bakery, though, I quickly doubled back around and came up behind her building.

I was still worried that Marinette was not at one hundred percent, so I crouched behind a chimney and kept out of sight; I’d have to rely on my superior feline hearing to know whether she’d transformed and started toward the school.

It wasn’t long before I heard the jangling chimes of her transformation. Despite our respective sequences being somewhat similar, we’d changed in front of each other enough times now that I could pick out her particular signature. My ears swiveled and I knew it was the unique sound of the yo-yo being sent heavenward.

Carefully, I leaned out from behind the brickwork and saw Ladybug shoot up and away from the Bakery, following my general line toward school. “There you are, Milady,” I smiled, and gave chase.

It wasn’t the first time I’d, well, _stalked_ Marinette. Back in our earlier non-relationship relationship days, I’d often found myself in similar situations, worried about Marinette and keeping watch over her as best as I could. How I’d never caught her becoming Ladybug was a credit to her craftiness at selecting a time and place to transform. This was, however, the first time I’d done it while she was Ladybug, so I had to contend with her own enhanced abilities and be far more careful. 

Once I was convinced she was indeed heading for the school, I navigated my way along an interception route and managed to catch up with her about three blocks from the school. “Hey, stranger,” I said as I helicoptered over to her. “Where ya been?”

“I could ask you the same,” she said, tightly.

_Ouch. You know where I’ve been, dammit._

“One of the students from the akuma attack required some… purrsonal… attention,” I said, and went full Chat with a waggle of my masked eyebrows. “She’s feline better now, but I’m going to check on her later just to be sure.”

Ladybug passed on any sort of witty comeback. “All right,” she said perfunctorily. “Bring me up to speed.”

As we closed in on the school, I gave her a quick precis of the situation, knowing full well she was well aware of what had happened. But I left nothing out, and by the time we landed on the roof, she was nodding thoughtfully. The duality was _really_ starting to bother me, but I kept my tongue.

The dispassionate part of my brain was busily analyzing what it felt like to be experiencing our relationship from this perspective. We’d danced around each other for almost a year, desperately hiding who we really were from each other. I’d made one too many mistakes, as had Ladybug, and ultimately, we’d discovered each other’s secret. But now, watching her mentally wall off herself from me while simultaneously knowing who she really was, cut me to the core. Again.

Ladybug kneeled at the edge of the rooftop. “My best guess is that the akuma will come back to the original host, if it hasn’t already multiplied,” she offered.

 _Uh, I’d figured that out already, Milady,_ I thought angrily. She was treating me like she had originally: I’d been relegated to sidekick mode. I swallowed back another snide response, and asked instead: “Like with Stoneheart?”

“Exactly.”

“So, we wait?”

“We wait.”

I was in my patient cat stance already, so I just continued to sit there, staring out across the deep blue sky. Adrien was going to be missed down there, as was Marinette; thank goodness it was lab day ---

_Merde._

I pulled out my baton in smooth action and flipped up the phone. I was supposed to have been at the photo shoot a good thirty minutes ago.

“Look,” I said as I stood up. “You got this for a bit? There’s something I need to do.”

“What are you talking about?” she said, turning toward me. “We’re in the middle of something here!”

My tail twitched as I tried to clamp down my temper, again. “Milady, we are only _in_ this mess because you were off somewhere, doing whatever it was you thought was more important than backing your partner up.” I moved to the edge facing the street. “I’ll have my phone with me; if it all goes south, call me.” 

I narrowed my eyes to bury the dagger. “ _I’ll_ make a point of getting here.”

“Look, I’m sorry you had to handle it alone the first time, but, Chat, seriously!” she said, angrily. “What if I need you?”

“You’ll survive,” I said icily as I extended my baton. “I did.”


	3. Anger Management

## Chat Noir

I hurled myself toward the Grand Palais, soaring through the skyline of Paris as quickly as my feline body could take me, using the effort to try and take the edge off of my seriously bad attitude. 

I couldn’t believe she was actually angry, with _me_ , when _she’d_ been the one that had left me hanging. But the further away from her I got, the more guilty I started to feel for having left her behind unguarded. By the time I’d dropped down into a quiet grove of trees beside the Palais and transformed back to Adrien, I was an emotional wreck on the inside.

Fortunately, I am also a professional model, so when I entered the grand space of the foyer and walked onto the set, I had already recomposed myself into the vision most people saw of me. It appeared the shoot hadn’t actually started yet, and I as neared the center of the set, I discovered why: the photographer was late. While it was not as unusual as it sounds, it happened less frequently than models cancelling at the last minute.

Loath to go through hair and makeup until I absolutely needed to, I hung around with the crew for a bit; they were not exactly sociable, so that didn’t last very long. With my “real” cell phone back at school along with all of my other personal items, I ran out of things to pass the time and like any teenage male, boredom set in fairly quickly. Considering I had been a half hour late myself (and the shoot couldn’t have started without me), I decided I’d had enough and booked out after waiting another twenty minutes.

By the time I dropped in beside Ladybug back at the school, I’d been absent less than an hour. It didn’t make a difference, though. She was still fuming. 

“Glad you could make it,” she said icily.

“Hey,” I said, my kettle finally boiling over. “Let’s just take a second to clear a few things up, shall we?”

I put up my paw and started to tick things off, claw by claw. “Akuma turns up. Chat rushes out. Chat saves school. Akuma is lost.” I paused, putting a claw to my chin. “Did I miss anything? Oh, right, how about the part where _Ladybug_ never shows, even though she’s the only one that can finish off the akuma.” 

I turned and leaned against the half wall holding the clerestory windows we’d been looking through, angrily crossing my arms in the process. “You have no right to be upset, LB. I, on the other paw, have _multiple_ reasons to be annoyed,” I said tightly, tail twitching.

“Chat –”

I put up a finger. “You have no idea what you put me through, Milady. I think you owe me an explanation,” I finished with, knowing full well I was not about to get one.

Ladybug continued to glare at me. It was the kind of look you’d see her give a stranger, not the partner she’d worked side by side with for nearly a year. That took some wind out of my sails. “We don’t have time for this right now,” she said quietly, anger lacing every syllable. “So let’s put a pin in it, all right?”

“Seriously?” I found myself nearly hissing. “Put a _pin_ in it?” I threw up my paws. “Fine,” I growled, refolding my hands and turning away from her. 

She turned toward the window and pointed down to the floor. “School’s about to get out; unless I miss my mark, we should see something pretty soon.”

“Brilliant plan,” I said sarcastically. 

Ladybug sat up and turned back toward me. “What the Hell is wrong with you, Chat?”

I turned back, eyes wide. “Wrong with _me?_ ”

I was tempted to tell her _exactly_ what was wrong, but the words died on my lips as I spied the purple akuma in the distance. “Here it comes,” I said quietly, immediately going completely professional.

She turned back toward the window. “The janitor’s not present,” she said.

I was still following the akuma, and it was headed straight for us.

My eyes widened. 

Straight. For. Us.

_Merde._

“Ladybug, I think it’s making a beeline for one of us,” I said, slightly chagrined. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Strong emotion usually attracted its attention, and between the two of us at that moment, we must have stuck out like a giant beacon to Hawkmoth. “Can you nab it before it nails one of us?” I looked sidelong at her. “Can we even be akumatized?”

“Yes,” she said shortly. “Remember Hero’s Day?”

“Ah,” I said, remembering how the other members of Team Miraculous had been turned by Hawkmoth. That would be nothing compared to his getting one or both of us under his control. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m thinking happy thoughts…”

“I wish I could say the same,” she murmured. 

Ladybug stood up and started to swirl her yo-yo, trying to gauge the distance.

“No Lucky Charm?”

“Nope,” she said.

I tensed as it got closer, holding my baton out as if it would have had any effect.

She clicked open the yo-yo. “Time to de-evilize!” she cried, and spun it up at the akuma, capturing it cleanly on her first attempt. A moment later, she was releasing the pure white version out of her yo-yo. “Bye bye, little butterfly,” she said, with just a trace of wistfulness.

Ladybug turned toward me, and while keeping her eyes focused on mine, tossed the yo-yo back to the sky one last time. “Miraculous Ladybug,” she said, with as little emotion as I’ve ever heard from her.

Her magic helpers appeared and swarmed the school, fixing the last of what had gone wrong with this akuma. I assumed that meant the door to the janitor’s closet would be reset, and, perhaps, the floors would again look a little less shiny. When the red and black light faded, we were left facing each other. 

It felt awkward to do our fist pump, but I decided to try. “Pound---?”

“I’ve got to go,” Ladybug said abruptly and turned on heel. A moment later, she had pulled herself several blocks from me with her yo-yo. I stared after her, fist still in mid-air, alone with all of my thoughts.

“Well,” I said to no one in particular. “ _That_ went well.”

I was still holding my baton in the other hand and popped it open again; it was barely 1450. Too early to go home, and far too early (on many fronts) to visit Marinette as Chat. I sighed and simply flipped over the edge of the roof and landed gracefully in my pounce-crouch in the courtyard proper. I’d half hoped to chance upon someone, but the space was clear and no one was about. 

I sighed again, and took two small leaps toward the men’s restroom, and then simply stood and opened the door. It, too, was empty, so I quickly locked myself into a stall. “Plagg – claws in.”

* * *

## Adrien

The transformation wave rolled over me, and I was standing there as Adrien, with Plagg floating close by. He was looking concerned, for once; it was not an expression I often saw on his tiny face. “Hey, kiddo,” he said. “I know that was pretty rough. Just remember – she’s more upset at herself. Probably because she knows intrinsically something is wrong, just not what, exactly, it is.”

I pulled some Camembert out of my pocket and tossed it to my kwami. “That’s deep, Plagg.”

“Yes, it is,” he said somberly as he mowed down on the cheese.

“I was – am -- pretty angry myself,” I said, feeling the weight of the words. “This whole situation is just nuts.”

In the distance, final bell started to ring. Plagg zipped into my shirt and I left the restroom and fell into the crowd of students getting ready to depart for the day. I had to make a quick stop in the janitor’s closet to retrieve my book bag, and on my way back out, I ran headlong into Nino.

“Dude,” he said, still wearing the fuzzy expression from this morning.

“Hey,” I said. “Alya figure out the video?” I asked. As I turned to go down the steps with him, I saw Marinette’s phone in the corner. The Ladybug Magic had restored it whole.

Chat saw an opportunity.

I stumbled slightly and “accidentally” dropped my bookbag at that moment. “Oh, crud,” I said as I bent over and scooped the phone into an outside pocket of my bag. “How clumsy of me,” I said, smiling to myself.

Nino hadn’t noticed anything. In fact, he’d rounded the corner and thought he was still talking to me when I caught up with him. “…take everything down until she knows,” he said.

I nodded despite having absolutely no clue what he said. “Probably for the best,” I agreed, with my best smile. 

“Yeah,” Nino said, looking at me oddly.

“What?” I pressed as we neared the main doors.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Just for one moment, I thought….”

His eyes strayed to my hair, and I could almost see him mentally trying to place a feline ear or two up there. “Nino?” I prompted, trying to break his concentration.

“Uh, yeah, well, see you tomorrow, Adrien.”

We did our version of the fist pump and parted ways. Gorilla was waiting for me and quickly whisked me back to the mansion, where I unexpectedly found Father waiting for me.

“Adrien,” he said as I entered the main hall.

“Father?”

“I’ve fired the photographer over today’s incident,” he said in his monotone. “Unfortunately, you’ll have to go back tomorrow afternoon with the new photographer.”

I did a mental calendar check. “I’ve got fencing---”

“I’ve already cleared it with your coach and the school.” He turned and entered his den, conversation clearly over.

“Yes, Father,” I said to the closed door.

* * *

## Chat Noir

After another typically lonely dinner, I cloistered myself back in my bedroom, and immediately transformed to Chat Noir. It was a connection to what had been, and though it wasn’t much, just sitting there in costume, with my back against the couch, I could almost convince myself that life was as normal as it had ever been – at least, life as I had known it since becoming the holder of the Cat Miraculous. I needed that touchstone, especially now that I was in this strange, quixotic quest to restore Ladybug’s memories of us.

The sun was slanting through the windows on its way to another Parisian sunset, but with my back to the windows, I was oblivious to the scene as I flipped through the threads on the text message function of the baton.

> **_Chat:_ ** _love you and miss you xxuu_
> 
> **_LB:_ ** _Ditto. Now say goodnight, Chat._
> 
> **_Chat:_ ** _Goodnight, Chat._

Those were the final entries in the log. I scrolled back to the top and re-read the last two days of messages, feeling more depressed as I did so. These were from a Ladybug that had virtually been erased. It was all I had left.

At 1900 I gave up and vaulted out the open window, two hours early for our normal patrol window. I should’ve been doing homework, and was aware that some of my studies had slid a bit that week. But the emotions roiling me were distracting enough that some physical activity was a welcome relief. 

The setting sun had streaked the minimal clouds with periwinkle, breathtaking enough that I actually dropped out of a vault and crouched atop the roofline of the Commerce Block to watch the last light fade away. For a moment, the turmoil in my soul was stilled, and I simply appreciated the magnificence of the moment.

It didn’t last. 

My baton buzzed and I clicked it open to see Ladybug’s face. “Chat,” she said succinctly.

“Ladybug,” I said, seeing as we were now on a first name basis.

“I… I need the night off. Can you cover tonight?”

My eyes widened. “Of course, Milady. Are you –”

“Great. See you tomorrow.” She clicked off.

“—feeling okay?” I finished to the empty screen.

I slid the baton closed and replaced it at the small of my back. So much for asking her if I could visit Marinette. The again, she would know that the first place I would want to go _would_ be Marinette’s. Since she’d been there when I said I’d be coming back.

“Arrgh,” I growled, and leapt violently into the night.

* * *

Despite my true intentions, I did as instructed and dutifully crisscrossed the city, trying to cover the same area solo that the two of us did routinely. It was reasonably quiet – I only broke up two bar fights, and, notably, saved a cat up a tree in the park yet again. 

I was thinking the white Persian was secretly in love with me and intentionally climbed up each evening just to make sure I would “save” her when I passed through that part of the city. Normally I’d be gallant about it, but tonight it was a simple pluck operation with no commentary.

She wasn’t amused at my lack of attention and promptly started to clean where I’d held her.

 _That_ made me smile, and I gave her a little scratch behind the ear before continuing on my way.

It was well past 2200 when I finally landed on the chimney at Marinette’s, exhausted both by the long day and the emotional rollercoaster I seemed to be strapped into. As late as it was, I hadn’t expected to find Marinette on the patio, but there she was, leaning on the railing. 

“Good evening, Princess,” I said, balanced perfectly as always. “Are you feeling better?”

Marinette turned and looked upward. “Yes, thank you Chat,” she said simply.

I hesitated. My normal routine would be to move down to the railing below, and then slowly move ever closer until she was in my arms. That plan had a few flaws this evening, especially since I could still see the remnants of Ladybug’s anger in those deep blue eyes. Marinette couldn’t expose that anger to me, though, without tipping her hand.

Fortunately, I had a plan B ready. 

“I have something of yours,” I said. “May I come down?”

Something flickered across her face, recognizing that I normally didn’t ask for permission to join her. “Of course, Chat.”

I stretched to the next chimney flue, and then dropped down onto the railing, settling into my standard cat-on-a-rail stance. With my free hand, I unzipped my pocket and produced her phone, which I held out to her. “You dropped this during the akuma attack,” I said, as she accepted it from my paw. “This is the first chance I’ve had to return it.”

“Thank you, Chat,” she said, as she unlocked it and saw it was in good shape.

“Uh, if you don’t mind me asking…” I started, pulling out some modelling tricks and looking as plaintive as possible. 

“What, Chat?” she said as she scrolled into an app.

“I couldn’t help but notice something on there had your complete attention during the attack.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, not really listening to me.

My ego was suffering a bit. Normally I was the center of attention. Everywhere. “Uh, Princess…?”

“Exactly,” she said, still focused on the phone.

“I think your pigtail is on fire,” I said.

“I appreciate it, actually,” she answered.

“All right,” I said, as I turned to leave. “Nice chat.”

She looked up. “Oh, I’m sorry, Chat,” she said, biting her lip the way she usually did when she wanted to say something but was unsure of how to proceed.

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” I said, a little more harshly than I’d intended. I guess my ego bruised easier than I realized. “Have a pleasant even---"

“Can I ask you something?” she said suddenly.

“Anything, Princess,” I said, turning back and re-settling back into my stance on the railing.

“Did you take me to the Sweethearts Ball?”

I smiled. “Yes,” I said. “Don’t you remember?”

“That’s the thing,” she said, turning her phone toward me. “Clearly I was there, and I remember some parts of it, but I don’t remember this.”

I looked at the phone. It was an action shot from the Ladyblog, showing me (well, technically Chat Noir) twirling Marinette around the dance floor. I had stepped in for her real date, which was also me (Adrien, actually) since I (well, Adrien) had been banned from going by Father.

“That was the waltz section, I think,” I said as I turned the phone back to her. “You learned the steps pretty quickly.”

“But why was I there with you?” she asked, genuinely.

I paused a moment before answering. How far could I go?

 _Stick close to the truth_ , I heard my original Ladybug say in the back of my head.

“Your original date wasn’t able to make it,” I said. “He, uh, asked me to step for him to make sure you be able to go still.”

“My date?” she said. “Who was that?”

I felt my heart thumping a bit and took a deep breath to steady myself. “Adrien Agreste.”

“ _What!”_ she exclaimed.

She started pacing the patio. “Adrien? _Adrien_ was supposed to take me?”

“Yes, Princess,” I said, my green eyes following her as she paced. It was actually a bit cute, though I was also concerned about how wound up she was becoming. “You don’t remember that?” I said, smiling a bit. “Dating someone like him seems—”

She stepped over to me and took me by the lapels – if my costume had them – and pulled me into her face. “I am dating _Adrien Agreste_?” she asked, loudly.

“As far as I know,” I said, just a few inches away from her nose. It was so tempting to move just a few centimeters more… but I carefully pulled myself out of her embrace and rebalanced on the railing. 

Marinette was apoplectic and started pacing the space, double-time. I think she was talking, but in an impressive feat, managed to find a way to cross-talk over herself. I’d lost her thread fairly early and just let her go, waiting for a good moment to either slink away into the night or jump into the fray.

At length, she seemed to wear out and fall into the chaise lounge, dramatically throwing an arm over her eyes. “This is a _disaster_ ,” she said. “He must be in love with me, too, then. But why can’t I remember?”

I was still on the railing, seemingly forgotten. My ears drooped slightly as I carefully cleared my throat. “Uh…”

“Oh!” Marinette sat back up. “Sorry, Chat, I forgot you were here…”

What was left of my ego shriveled up and hurled itself over the railing, screaming all the way to oblivion. “It’s late,” I said amicably. “I’ll let you get some rest.”

“Thanks, Chat,” she said.

“I’ll stop in again tomorrow,” I added. “I am still worried about you.”

She smiled, tiredly. “All right.”

I followed my ego over the rail and into the night.


	4. Purrfect Assignments

## Gabriel

“The data seem odd,” Nathalie said without looking away from her screen. “My tracking software on his phone clearly shows that Adrien is normally exactly where he should be, but there are a few gaps where it, quite literally, disappears.”

Gabriel leaned over her shoulder to look at the screen. “Is he on the Metro? Or some area that has poor reception?”

“No,” Nathalie said, using her stylus to point to the map on the screen. Multiple paths were outlined in green. “But what is stranger is that, based on the time index, the signal ceases at one point, and then picks up again minutes or even hours later, and in many cases, a fair distance away from where the signal was lost.” She looked up.

“What is your best guess?”

She crinkled her brow and started to speak, but turned quickly to cough away from her employer. “Sorry,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

Gabriel looked at her. “I really wish you hadn’t—”

“It was my choice,” she said, firmly, putting an end to his statement. “As I was about to say, I think there are two suggestions from this data. One: he turns off his phone for a period of time, and then turns it on again once he’s done doing whatever he’s doing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Meaning he suspects we are tracking him?”

“Possibly.”

“And option two?”

“The phone simply ceases to exist for a period of time,” she said, letting the obvious conclusion hang in the air.

He straightened up and slowly walked to the portrait of his wife. “I need more evidence,” he said after a while.

Nathalie paused, frowning. She had come to really feel somewhat fondly for Gabriel’s son, but if she showed him what she had… “There’s one other thing,” she said.

He didn’t turn around. 

“He spends an inordinate amount of time on something called the Ladyblog,” she started. “Don’t get me wrong, he appears to be keeping up with his studies, but in off hours, he’s been pouring through all information he can find out about Ladybug.”

“He is a teenage boy, Nathalie,” he replied. “I’m sure half the boys his age in Paris are doing the same.”

“Yes,” she said, “I’m sure. But how many purchase Chat Noir-themed jewelry as well?”

Gabriel half turned. “Keep going.”

“He tried to hide it,” she said, clicking through some screens on her terminal. “But it looks like he placed a special order a few weeks ago for a custom pendant of Le Chat Noir and a matching gold chain using one of the accounts we have for his fencing supplies.” She smiled. “The amount was within the bounds of what we normally spend for that sport,” she said quietly. “It was actually quite clever. It took me a bit to find it.”

“You’re saying he’s not just an over-the-top fan?”

“No,” she said, and grimaced as she plunged forward. “Look at this screen grab from the stadium.”

He turned back toward his console. Nathalie had put up the same angle he’d looked at before, when Ladybug had proudly presented Adrien back to him.

“Zoom in on her neck.”

He pinched the image and it exploded by two hundred percent. There, on a gold chain around Ladybug’s neck, was a handmade pendant of Le Chat Noir.

“Where is he now?” he asked, no trace of emotion.

Nathalie punched up the GPS tracker. “Bedroom.”

Gabriel moved quickly out of the den and up the steps, and didn’t bother to knock when he reached his son’s room. Adrien was sitting on his couch, and despite the late hour, appeared to be settling in to play a video game on his large screen television. He had turned at the unexpected entrance, a look of surprise on his face.

“Father?” he said carefully, seeing something in Gabriel’s face.

“I need a truthful answer,” Gabriel said as he stalked over to the couch. “Why did you purchase a pendant for Ladybug?”

Adrien’s face flamed bright red, and he could see anger just below the surface. What he said next would decide whether Hawkmoth would take him out on the spot, family or not.

* * *

## Chat Noir

As tired as I was, I didn’t want to go home.

I roamed the city for a bit, retracing my steps from my earlier prowl, but it was quiet. Paris didn’t need a hero that evening, as much as I wished it did. As midnight gave way to one, I finally decided it was time to get back home and made my way back to the mansion, slipping in through the bathroom window.

Closing it behind me, I paused in front of the mirror, and saw a very worried, very tired, Chat Noir staring back at me. Ladybug hadn’t taken the time to explain how, exactly, the potion was supposed to work – she’d been too busy trying to get me to take it, and, frankly, I’d been too busy fending her off to inquire after the finer points of the concoction. I had assumed from what she said, any romantic memory or any memory that revealed our identity had been targeted, but her inability to remember tangentially connected events troubled me.

I stared at myself, seeing my ears droop. I also thought Ladybug knew something was wrong, and had no idea how to go about fixing it.

_And it’s bugging the Hell out of her._

As I contemplated life, the universe and everything, my baton buzzed unexpectedly. I retrieved it from the small of my back and flipped it open; I’d received a new text message from an unexpected source.

**_Tikki:_ ** _Chat! Spoke with Wayzz who conferred with the others._

**_Chat:_ ** _Tikki? How are you texting me?_

**_Tikki:_ ** _Who do you think runs the Bug Phone in the first place?_

**_Chat:_ ** _lol you and Plagg are so much alike in some ways_

**_Tikki:_ ** _No need for insults, Chat. ;-)_

**_Chat:_ ** _Sorry! What did you find out?_

**_Tikki:_ ** _He was typically cryptic, but thought the fairytale route would work. He said you’d understand._

**_Chat:_ ** _lol okay. Not at the moment but let me think on it._

**_Tikki:_ ** _Good luck!_

That was interesting. Fairytale? As in, Prince-kisses-Princess fairytale? I was so tired that the best I could come up with was a scene from Sleeping Beauty. I guess anything that required me to kiss Ladybug was going to firmly be in my “give it a shot” column.

Sliding my baton back in place, I halfheartedly pressed an ear to the door to check the bedroom space, assuming it would be empty at this hour. I started to slide the door open when I heard the door to the den slam shut and footsteps vaulting up the staircase toward my room.

One leap and I was at the couch; I smashed the remote to activate the television and grabbed a controller for my X-box. 

“Plagg – claws in!” I whispered as the steps got closer.

* * *

## Adrien

It was close, but the glow faded a fraction of a second before my bedroom door burst open, and Father, eyes wild, stalked over to me on the couch. I didn’t have to act much – my surprise at his entrance was genuine.

“Father?”

“I need a truthful answer,” he said icily. There was a fury only partially being controlled behind his eyes. “ _Why_ did you purchase a pendant for Ladybug?”

I felt my eyes widen and embarrassment flush across my face. He saw my reaction and tensed in a way that I’d not expected him to do. I swallowed.

“I know I should have told you,” I started, desperately casting about for an explanation that might make sense. Perhaps as a result of having just dropped my transformation, my senses were on overdrive; I could hear his how deep his anger seemed to be, and see the pulse throbbing in his neck, emphasizing the point.

“ _Why?_ ” he thundered.

I leaned back unconsciously and had to work hard not to try and flip into my defensive pounce-crouch. “Father, I’m in love with her,” I said, honestly. “I thought I could try and prove it to her…”

His mouth had compressed itself into a fine line. He said nothing, so I continued.

“I have a friend – Alya? She runs this blog dedicated to Ladybug—”

That garnered a reaction, but I wasn’t entirely certain why. “She interviews her a lot for the blog, so I kind of planned it out with her. I bought the pendant and worked it out so I could be present the next time she was interviewed.”

He stared at me. I kept going.

“She was really cool, Ladybug,” I said, scratching the back of my neck. “She took it and put it on – that must have been a few days ago? I guess?” I looked away from his intense stare. “Other than seeing her at the stadium, I’ve not talked to her or seen her since.” I looked up at him. “She didn’t even show at school the other day when we had an akuma attack.”

That prompted an eyebrow raise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Chat Noir showed up, I think, but to be honest it’s a bit hazy.” I grinned sheepishly. “Most of us were turned into little scrubbing robots, apparently. I don’t remember much.”

“You were affected by the akuma?” he asked, concerned for the first time.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s happened a few times. I don’t remember much when it does.”

That seemed to satisfy something for him.

“I’m sorry, Father,” I said sincerely. “I was too embarrassed to ask you to do it for me, and to be honest, I’m not sure if Ladybug is even still wearing it. She might have just been being polite to even accept it.” I tried to look heartbroken. “I think she’s really in love with Chat Noir anyway.”

That _also_ seemed to satisfy something for him, too. I didn’t like that; I might have been a tad too truthful.

“You should have come to me, Adrien,” he said. He looked down at my ladybug ring, pointedly. “Did she—”

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s a classmate of mine,” I continued. “You’ve seen her here before – Marinette?”

“She must really care about you.”

“She does. And she’s an important part of my life, too.”

Father stared at me for a moment longer. “You are grounded for the next month,” he said. “And I will have Nathalie restrict your access to our accounts until you’ve proved to me you can be trusted with that responsibility again,” he added.

“Yes, Father,” I said, hoping that might not include my secret payment account Chat used for catering.

“Home, school, practice, home,” he emphasized. “That’s it. One month.” He paused. “No friends.”

“Father!” I started.

“No exceptions,” he said. “And I will know if you deviate at all.”

He turned and brushed out of my room, slamming the door as he went.

Plagg fluttered out. “What’s got his goat?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said quietly, “but he knows entirely too much about my activities.”

I looked across the room toward the still shattered intercom system, a visual reminder that someone (likely Nathalie) had been listening in on conversations in my space; while I was now very certain that she had overheard at least some portion of discussions I’d had with Ladybug as Chat, I was becoming more convinced it had long been used to keep close tabs on Adrien. I’d never had a chance to discuss it fully with Ladybug, especially the gnawing dread that there was a connection there to Hawkmoth that I really, truly, didn’t want to know about.

My eyes moved on to the computer on my desk, and my phone that was sitting in the charger dock. The phone normally went everywhere I did, save for nights I left the mansion as Chat Noir. For the first time, I wondered if they had also been using it to monitor my movements. I went cold when I realized I sometimes had it on me when I was forced to transform unexpectedly – and I had no idea what that might reveal.

The computer was more of a concern – I didn’t necessarily do anything on it that would get me in trouble, but his reaction to my mentioning the Ladyblog seemed to resonate. If they were tracking my phone they were also likely monitoring my web surfing, too. 

I’d need to be far more careful – across the board. I’d been blithely transforming and simply hurling myself out the window most nights, assuming I was been afforded some modicum of privacy. That was looking less like the case.

I grinned, grimly, thinking “careful” might not be the best option. Maybe I needed to be more tactical. Of all the times to not be able to bounce ideas off of Ladybug…

I changed for bed and stared at the ceiling, my restless mind unable to stop thinking through the multiple problems I was facing; having Father suddenly on my case was a complication I really didn’t need at this point. Plagg had floated off to his clothes hamper, so he wasn’t close at hand for a discussion, not that he’d be a party to it in the first place. I rolled over and stared at the wall. Getting to Marinette tomorrow evening was going to be a problem, if I was technically grounded; that hadn’t typically prevented Chat Noir from escaping, but something made me think I’d have to lean a little more on Chat’s cunning than normal.

Oddly, I found myself hoping for a late afternoon akuma attack, not that I would wish that on Paris.

I did have the photo shoot still in the afternoon, come to think of it. I’d _have_ to be there, even if I was grounded. I felt a Chat smile sprouting in the semi-darkness: Adrien would have a guest tomorrow.

I rolled out of bed and picked up my phone, accessed the anonymous payment system I’d set up so Chat Noir could cater on date night and verified I still had plenty of money on hand. Fortunately, I’d pumped it up a few weeks ago; if I was frugal, I might be able to get through until I charmed my way back into Father’s good graces. I punched up the mobile ordering system for Phillipe’s Bistro and pre-ordered a dozen cannoli to be delivered to Adrien at the Grand Palais tomorrow afternoon.

I started to put my phone back in the dock, and thought better of it. I went over to my desk and snapped on the light, scrolled through my phone settings, and found the “restore to factory image” option. It took a split second for me to decide before initiating the wipe and rebuilding my phone. If someone had planted a tracker, it would get blown away in the process – along with all of my other data, unfortunately. I was willing to lose everything at a chance to foil Father, however briefly. Or, as I now suspected, Nathalie, who was my equal in the tech department.

Seeing that I was not going to get any sleep anyway, I fired up my computer and started my own careful forensic review of the system. I was not as good as Max, but I had a few tips up my sleeve. It took about an hour to find the keylogger Nathalie had loaded; another twenty minutes to find the ghost partition that had been making a mirror of everything on my hard drive. I sat back, twirling in my chair. Removing either item would trigger suspicion; the phone would be enough of a problem to explain. 

I twirled again, then carefully used a few console commands to eliminate my last ninety minutes of activity from both the keylogger and the partition. Then, just to throw them a bone, I launched my web browser and started randomly reading the Ladyblog. With luck, my compromised computer might come in handy later.

By the time the first golden rays of sunrise had touched my bedroom windows, I’d rebuilt my phone and manually re-added my contacts. I’d cheated slightly by waking poor Plagg and transforming in order to access my contact list on the baton. I decided not to risk a Bluetooth transfer and wound up having to key them via claw, which went faster than I expected.

I was still Chat Noir when, bleary eyed, my feline ears picked up Nathalie heading upstairs to “wake” me. I plopped the phone in the dock and leapt into the bathroom, slid the door closed and did the tried-and-true shower dodge by cranking the hot water. I tiptoed back to the door and pressed an ear to it; Nathalie entered my room and paused, appeared to hear the running water, and left.

When I was sure she was out of earshot, I dropped my transformation and ran through the shower; Plagg and I arrived at the dining room table exactly on schedule and had a fine time dining alone. Again. Nathalie had to have been busy reviewing my internet browsing history and had left me alone with the buffet.

Gorilla had me at school right on time, and I trudged up the steps toward the main courtyard. I should’ve tried to get some real sleep last night; I was dragging, big time. If only the school served coffee to the students…

Crossing the courtyard, I spied Marinette in our usual gaggle with Nino and Alya. They were still not acting normally with each other, so I assumed those two were having the same issues that Marinette had exhibited. I came up them. “Hey guys,” I said.

Alya ignored me as she spooled through more video on her phone; Nino fist pumped me and Marinette froze, per usual. I sighed. This was getting kind of old. 

I turned to Marinette. She was holding a paper cup from her Bakery, and even without my Chat Noir sense of smell, I knew it was her favorite: café latte, double chocolate. I’d been bringing it to her religiously most nights we were on patrol; once we started dating (and knew each other’s identities), she’d started to return the favor by bringing me coffee most mornings at school. I tried to ignore the pain of not seeing that second cup in her hand. 

“Marinette, are you free this afternoon?”

“Uh, w-well, free you are – I mean, wait, I’m fr-fr-ee!” she said.

“Great,” I smiled. “I need an extra for the shoot this afternoon – meet me out front at lunch. I’ll clear it with our teacher.” I headed up to the classroom, leaving a starry-eyed Marinette in my wake.

Our teacher had no problem releasing Marinette, provided her parents approved; I’d called them on the way into school and Madame Dupain-Cheng had been more than happy to let her come with me. Fortunately, _she_ still thought Adrien was dating Marinette. When Marinette called from the teacher’s line, she nearly squeaked with joy when her mother said yes.

The morning dragged on, but as we were getting ready to depart for lunch, our teacher called our attention back from the group projects we had been working on. “Just a reminder,” she said as she started to circulate amongst us, handing out permission slips. “A week from tonight is our annual Night at the Museum. Instructions for the evening are on the front, your parent or guardian signature must be on the back and returned to me by next Wednesday.” 

She moved up and down the aisle. I started to scan mine and found, to my surprise, Ladybug Luck was working in my favor. Marinette had been assigned as my Field Trip Buddy. I chanced a glance over my shoulder, and judging from the frozen dreamy look on her face, Marinette had seen this on her slip as well. I turned toward Nino and gave him a Chat grin. “This is going to be purrfect,” I said to him quietly.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re doing cat puns now?” he said, frowning. Nino again started to stare at my hair, this time almost raising a finger to trace in the triangles of my feline ears. “Dude…”

I sighed and quickly turned away from him. It was hard to keep straight who knew _what_ anymore.

Lunchtime finally arrived and Gorilla was waiting for me when I exited the school. I dallied on the steps, though, as Marinette was nowhere to be found. I started to wonder if she had chickened out and was on the cusp of going back for her when Alya roughly shoved her through the doors toward me. I took the cue and stepped up toward her.

“There you are,” I said, smiling the smile that I knew would daze her. “Ready to go?”

She bit her lip and simply nodded.

I actually took her by the hand, feeling her tense up at the touch, and gently led her down to the sedan, letting her get into the back seat ahead of me. Gorilla looked up at me via the rear view, but said nothing as he pulled away from the curb and headed across town for the Grand Palais.

“I’m glad you were free,” I said conversationally, twisting the ladybug ring as I spoke. “It will be nice to have someone I know on the set for once.”

“Gl—glad to help,” she managed to get out.

“Lunch will be served when we get there,” I continued. I went on to blather to no end about what she could expect from on set, knowing she had seen me on more than one occasion in the past. But she was also getting more comfortable the longer I spoke, which I thought would be helpful once my alter-ego appeared on the scene.

“Anyway,” I finished as we pulled up at the massive entrance to the Palais, “you can wait in my trailer until they call you for the shot.”

She nodded.

Gorilla came around and opened the door on her side, and I slid out behind her. Gently I nudged her through the entranceway and past the gaggle of crew getting prepped. Just off to the side was the craft table, and we both piled plates high with food the cafeteria would never have served.

Her eyes went wide as she watched me take three donuts. “But, you’re a model…?” she said questioningly. 

“A very hungry one,” I confirmed, munching on a fourth donut as we moved across the space toward a small travel trailer that had been moved into the main area for me. “Don’t worry,” I said with a wink, “I’ll work this off today.”

Marinette looked me up and down, seeming to not understand how I was able to keep my weight in check. I knew she had the same ramped up metabolism I was enjoying as a result of the Miraculous jewel, but I thought better of mentioning that just yet.

The door to the trailer was open, and I stepped in with Marinette. A makeup artist was already there, and I glumly put my food on the counter and settled into the chair. Marinette took a seat on the couch opposite, and stared as the transformation from Ordinary Adrien to Supermodel Adrien began. It wasn’t a process I was fond of going through, and certainly not one I would’ve wanted anyone else from school to witness. But I’d thought about it as I was working on my computer last night and decided showing Marinette _everything_ about Adrien might be key to helping her unlock the memories she had of us.

Cheryl had been my artist for a few years now and was clucking as she started. “Not sleeping again?” she said as she started to plaster foundation around my puffy eyes in an attempt to hide the dark circles that were threatening to appear. 

“No,” I said. “Lots of homework.”

She clucked again as she smoothed it out and began to dab on a second color that looked like a natural skin tone, adding it in key places as highlights that would look superb in a high-definition photo.

“Not much of me is left when this is done,” I said into the mirror at Marinette.

“Oh, darlin’,” Cheryl said as she started working around my eyes. “This is _all_ you. I’m just highlighting your natural attributes, honey. Now, close your eyes.”

I accidentally starting mewling, and quickly changed to a more normal, human pleading. “Are you _sure_ you need the eyeliner?”

“Hush, and close your eyes.”

I groaned and complied, feeling her work around the lashes, and then around the outside of the orbits. I detested wearing the makeup, but it was the price I paid to be a famous model. “Marinette, please tell me you’re not filming this.”

“N-n-no,” she said.

“All right, open up.”

I did so and had to admit the overall effect was pretty good. Cheryl pulled out a basket and started to root through the hair product, settling on a set of gels that I knew she preferred which she quickly started to lay into my hair. By the time she was done, I was looking pretty much the way most of Paris had seen me over the years.

Cheryl turned me around to face Marinette. “Well, honey, what do you think?”

“Dreamy…” Marinette said with that dazed expression.

I rolled my eyes. Cheryl chuckled and packed up. “See you on set,” she said as she exited the trailer.

Marinette continued to stare at me. I got out of the chair and joined her on the couch, wistfully looking at the plate of food I’d brought with me. “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, the first complete sentence she’d uttered around me in a while.

“I can’t,” I said dejectedly. “Once I’m in makeup, I’m pretty much stuck until we’re done.”

“How long will this last?”

“A few hours,” I said. “Maybe shorter, if I can give the photographer what they want faster.”

She nodded.

There was a knock at the doorjamb, and a production assistant poked her head in. “Ready for you, Adrien,” she said, then paused when she saw Marinette. “Oh! Who are you?”

“This is Marinette, Juliette,” I said. “I knew we needed an extra today, so I invited her to come.”

“Oh…” Juliette said, as I suspected she would. “Uh, well, Adrien, the thing is, they changed the shooting order around…”

I tried to look crestfallen. “Don’t tell me I made my friend miss school for nothing.”

“Well…” she replied, shrugging. “I’m sorry.”

I turned back to Marinette. “I’m sorry, too, Marinette. Look, I can have my bodyguard run you home, or…” I added, drawing out the pause, “you’re welcome to hang out and I’ll take you home as soon as I’m done.”

Marinette looked at me, and for a moment, I could have sworn _my_ Marinette had seen through my ruse. But the look passed and she said, simply, “I don’t mind waiting, Adrien.”

“Great!” I said. “Maybe I can make this up to you by treating you to ice cream on the way home, then.”

I saw her eyes light up, knowing full well that was on her list of delectable treats. “That sounds like a plan,” she said, smiling normally for the first time in a few days.

For the first time in a few days, I was starting to feel optimistic myself. I smiled as I stepped out of the trailer. “See you in a bit!”


	5. Hot Chat

## Gabriel

They were in his den. Nathalie was hovering off his shoulder, holding her iPad.

“I’ve lost his phone today,” she said.

“Completely?”

“Yes,” she answered, looking at her iPad. “Best I can determine, the tracking software I loaded to it has been disabled or removed somehow.”

Gabriel didn’t look up from his work. “So he suspects, then.”

“Maybe,” she said. “The spyware on his computer is still operational, though,” she mused. “If we were to assume he’d intentionally disabled the app on his phone, he’d logically also assume his desktop was compromised and would take steps to circumvent them.” She poked at the iPad. “Aside from being up all night, he seems to have spent nearly all of it reading the Ladyblog.” Nathalie looked up again. “I can’t see any indication that he attempted to remove my spyware or the ghost partition.”

Gabriel continued to work at his console. “That supports his contention that he’s in love with Ladybug,” he said unemotionally. “You trust your findings?” he asked.

“For now,” she said. “When he returns from the photo shoot, I’ll access his phone.”

He nodded.

* * *

## Adrien

The shoot went about as I expected, and I went through all of my usual model emoting on command for the photographer. To be honest, the clothing line I was showcasing seemed not on a par with what Father had produced in the past, so it was hard to be enthusiastic about some of the items I was wearing. But I am a professional, and managed to get through the first part of the action without incident.

We broke for a thirty-minute reset of the lights and props, and I carefully made my way to the far side of the space where the public restrooms were located. Having been in this space multiple times before, both as Adrien and Chat Noir, I knew I could sneak out of the restroom and re-enter the space undetected fairly easily.

The area was clear, and for once, I thanked the Kwami Gods that the transformation would keep the makeup and hair in place. It would be pretty hard to explain why Cheryl would need to touch me up on the backend of this. I opened the blazer I was wearing and Plagg floated out of the interior pocket. Normally I let him hang in the trailer, but knowing I was going to need him later necessitated keeping him close. He’d reluctantly agreed, but it had also made the quick changes between sets a bit challenging.

“Ready?” I asked.

“No,” he said. 

I laughed. “Plagg – claws out!”

* * *

## Chat Noir

The transformation washed over me with its green energy, and I moved to the windows to escape, only to find they had been locked shut. I tried all of them, and short of busting my way out, they now appeared to not be a viable exit. “Figures,” I breathed. “ _Nothing_ about this has been easy.”

I scanned the space for alternatives. There was an air conditioning duct above me, but it looked too small for me to crawl through, Die Hard-style. Other than that, I was reduced to the door to the restroom.

_Sometimes it’s the simplest option._

After pressing a feline ear to the door, I cracked it open to verify everyone was at the far end of the space and oblivious. I pulled it further open and dropped to all fours, quickly leaping across the space to the trailer as stealthily as I could – which, I must say, is pretty stealthy. I came up behind the trailer and leaned against it, waiting again to ensure no one had seen me, then carefully used a claw to crack open the back window. “Princess? Are you in there?” I asked, pitching my voice to be just loud enough that Marinette might hear me.

I heard footfalls and then saw Marinette’s face looking down at me. “Chat Noir?”

“I’ve got a conflict for tonight but heard through the grapevine you were here this afternoon,” I said, smiling. “Mind if I come in?”

“Uh, sure, Chat,” she said.

I pressed myself to the side of the trailer and peeked around the corner to make sure no one was watching the door, then quickly trotted up and in, closing the door behind me. Marinette was standing beside the couch, holding the box of cannoli I’d ordered.

I smiled. “I see they arrived,” I said happily.

“Yes, just a moment ago.” She must have seen my look of longing, for she offered me the box. “Would you like one?”

“Thanks,” I said, carefully pulling one out, and noting that she’d managed to eliminate a quarter of the inventory already. I tried not to raise an eyebrow as I munched. As I literally licked the powdered sugar off of my paws, I spied the plate of food I’d left on the makeup stand and realized I was still quite hungry. “Uh, is anyone going to eat this?” I asked as I sidled over to the food.

“That’s Adrien’s!” Marinette said quickly.

 _I know,_ I thought. “Ah, sorry.”

I turned back toward her, and as tired as I was at that point, suddenly realized I had not come up with a plan beyond getting Chat in front of Marinette. I was drawing a complete blank on where to go from here. “So, feeling more like yourself?” I asked, grasping for anything.

“Yes,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

I peeked at the box of cannoli and snagged another one. “You were babbling pretty badly last night on the balcony,” I reminded her. “In fact, there was one point where I was nearly pawsitive you’d forgotten I was even there.”

Marinette sank into the couch. “I’m sorry about that, Chat,” she said, looking a little forlorn. “I can’t really explain it, but I guess I’m really not feeling like myself at all.” She looked up again. “And I can’t really understand what’s bothering me, either.”

I pulled the folding chair I’d sat in at the makeup counter over and folded myself into it. “It might help to talk it out,” I suggested.

She weighed something and then came to a decision. “Those pictures from the Ball I showed you?”

I nodded. “I was there, remember?”

“That’s kind of the problem,” she said. “I remember some parts, but I don’t remember _you_.”

I feigned offense. “Princess, you are cutting me to the bone,” I said lightly. “I generally make quite an impression on people…”

That made her smile. “I know,” she said. “But there it is. And then there are other videos on Alya’s blog, where you tell the world that you’re in love with—” Marinette abruptly stopped, catching her near admission that she was Ladybug. “Uh, I mean, I don’t remember ever seeing the video where you announce that you’re my date for the Ball. It seems like I should.”

“Well, now my ego is crushed.”

Marinette blushed. “Sorry, it’s not like that at all, Chat,” she started. “And it’s not just the Ball. People seem to think I’m already dating Adrien Agreste, but I don’t remember that, either. It’s like I’ve fallen into an alternate universe, replacing another version of me.”

I tried hard not to follow that thread, having recently done that very thing myself just a few days ago. Instead, I said: “Well, much of that is true.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m purretty well connected,” I said. “You and hotcakes out there are an item.”

Her blush turned crimson. “We… we really are?”

I smiled slyly. “Wow. How is he handling the fact that you no longer seem to know about your relationship?”

“I… I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve been avoiding him, actually.”

My green eyes widened. “Then why are you here today?”

“I thought I could talk to him about it,” she replied. “Honestly, I lost my nerve and then he went out there. I might try again when he’s done.”

I started to say something, but paused – my nose had picked up a strange scent. Almost like something was starting to melt. Immediately I went into protection mode and came out of the chair and pulled Marinette away from the couch. It turned out to be good call – the wall of the trailer had started to bubble, the interior plastic coating appearing to boil, dropping smoking globules of plastic onto the couch. It burst into flame.

I wrapped myself around Marinette to try and protect her, and pushed through the door; it was flimsy, almost like taffy, and slid off the hinges. Outside in the grand space, massive Klieg lights had been arranged around everything, and their intenseness had begun to quite literally melt our surroundings as if we had been ice cream. The set had already been reduced to multicolored pools of goo; behind us, the trailer had started to hiss as it sizzled under the bright lights.

My costume was protecting me from the worst of it, but I could feel a nasty first-degree burn starting on the unprotected portions of my face. I covered more of Marinette and quickly tried to move out from under the lights and toward one of the exits, running through less lighted areas where possible. Despite my booted protection, I was starting to feel the heat coming up from the flooring and quickly lifted Marinette into my arms to keep her feet from getting singed.

The crew of the photo shoot were at the doors, which had melted themselves shut. Everyone looked like they’d spent too much time in a tanning bed, and it was getting worse. I shifted Marinette, who was trying to wriggle out of my hands. I knew why she was trying to escape but needed to protect her a bit longer.

“Stay put,” I commanded. “Let me get everyone out of here, and then I will let you down.”

“What about Adrien?” she said in a high voice.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” I said. “Now stop squirming so I can make sure that’s the case.”

She stopped moving, and I raised my hand. “Cataclysm!”

The Power of Destruction swarmed into my ring hand, and, carefully avoiding Marinette, I quickly danced along the bank of doors for the Grand Palais. I was rewarded by watching them turn to dust, allowing all of us to dash out into the afternoon and away from the massive lights. I put Marinette down beneath a tree, and did a quick head count to make sure everyone had gotten out.

I was one short, if my memory of who was on duty that day was accurate. I found the photographer – “Where’s the lighting specialist?” I asked.

The blisters on his face were horrific, and I wondered how many I was sporting myself. “Got upset,” he said through cracked and peeling lips. “I just wanted something softer! But she thought we needed more light…”

I turned back to the Palais, and had to squint. The light coming out of it was as intense as looking into the sun itself. It was a good bet the lighting specialist’s anger had attracted Hawkmoth’s attention. I looked over my shoulder and smiled to see that Marinette had quietly slipped away. That was a good sign.

I turned back to the crowd, raising my hands in the classic _stop_ formation. “Stay back, as far as you can,” I said loudly. “I’m going back in.”

Grabbing my baton, I vaulted up to the clear roof and landed, and then reared back up and yelped. Even through my costume, the heat radiating from below was so intense it had burned my palms and knees where I’d landed against the ironwork holding the panes of glass in place. I could feel blisters forming below the fabric.

_Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!_

I scrabbled up a bit higher and pressed a glove to my eyes so I could look into the space below. I did better in low light situations and felt a bit like my retinas were melting. Other than the lights, I couldn’t see anyone moving around in the space below, but I knew the lighting director had to be down there somewhere.

The pain from the slow burn was getting intense. My ring had also chirped the four-minute warning, emphasizing my awareness that, yet again, Ladybug appeared to be taking her time to appear. This time was a bit more dangerous as I wasn’t sure I could take the time to detransform and feed Plagg without losing a chance to corner this akuma.

I’d have to move faster.

I shifted my baton and reared back, smashing the plate glass window beneath me and falling into the space. I extended it to brace my fall and sprung up and onto a catwalk that ringed the massive space we’d been using. As I moved through the air, the Klieg lights swung around to follow me, filling my vision with a nearly blinding white light. I blinked hard, eyes watering, and landed on the catwalk. It, too, was searingly hot and increasing in temperature with the focus of the lights. 

Something had to have been working the lights.

I squinted again and tried to examine the lights themselves. Several seemed to have a cable running from them, which I’d originally written off as power; blinking hard to clear my sight, I could see that multiple lines snaked across the floor and into a complex looking lighting board. It was an intuitive guess that the boxy item was controlling everything, and that it might actually be my akumatized lighting director.

 _Only one way to know_ , I thought, as my ring chirped the two-minute warning.

I swung over the railing and landed in the center of the space; the lights quickly swiveled onto me and the heat was intense. Sweating profusely now under the costume, I leapt toward the lighting board and started to circle it. The cables were all going in on one side, and that seemed like a logical place to start. With my Cataclysm used up, I had to go old school, and leaned in to begin yanking cables out, one at a time.

I had three out and that number of lights dimmed when the final one-minute chirp came, but was no closer to seeing the purple akuma. I tried to keep a mental countdown as I continued to unplug, feeling the temperature dropping with each new light disabled. I could also feel the skin flaking around my mask, and as my mental timer went under thirty seconds, realized I was not going to make enough headway before I lost my transformation.

_It’s not in the cables. What else would have the akuma in it?_

I stepped back a bit, and scanned the box again. I’d not seen anything remotely obvious on my first circuit, and nothing was standing out this time. 

_If I were a lighting director, what would I have been holding? Think, Adrien! What did you see?_

I heard the ten second countdown on the ring. I was out of time.

_It’s the board. It’s the board itself!_

I pulled out my baton and extended it slightly, and then brought it down, hard, on the top of the lighting board itself. Sparks flew as I hit it a second time, then a third; on the fourth downswing, my ring started its final five second chirping. The last blow cleaved the board in two, exploding in an electric shower of sparks that sent me sailing across the floor.

My transformation dropped as I hurtled into the wall, hitting it awkwardly and hearing something crunch in the process. I slid to the floor as Supermodel Adrien, ripping the blazer as I did so, watching the akuma flutter away from the board. I was in no position to go after it and just sat there, partially in shock, trying hard not to pass out.

Plagg appeared under me, concerned expression on his face for the second time in as many days. “Adrien, are you okay?” he asked quietly, doing an inspection of me as he floated. He frowned as he looked at my face. “That’s not obvious at all,” he said.

“What?” I asked, too tired to inquire further.

“You’ve got pretty bad second-degree burns, and the pattern emphasizes you were wearing a certain mask,” he said. “Show me your hands.”

I turned up my palms and saw they were burned where I had grabbed the iron on the roof, wincing at the pain that shot through my hands as I turned them. I could see now that portions of my slacks had been burned away as well, the skin beneath as ugly as my palms. It would be painfully obvious how I’d received the injuries.

“I don’t have any cheese, Plagg,” I said. “But I need to transform back before someone finds me like this.”

“That ship has already sailed,” he said quickly as he slid into what was left of my blazer.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and then felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. The touch brought intense pain and my eyes shot wide open, along with a guttural groan. 

“Adrien? Are you okay?” I found myself staring at Ladybug. 

“Get the akuma,” I said, frowning as I realized my shoulder had dislocated when I hit the wall. “I’ll be here.”

Ladybug looked at me, clearly taking in the pattern of my facial burns. She started to say something.

“ _Go_ ,” I said firmly. “I’m fine for now.”

She took off and I only partially watched as she flipped open the yo-yo and ran through her de-evilizing routine. Despite how lethargic I was feeling, not much time seemed to have passed as the akuma hadn’t gotten very far. 

Something was dripping on my collar, and I tried to wipe it off with the hand on the arm that still worked. It came away bloody; I moved my hand higher and found a deep gouge on the back of my head where I’d hit the wall. 

_Lovely_.

I blinked and Ladybug was back at my side. “Adrien? Adrien, are you awake?”

“Yes, Milady,” I said drowsily. “Just a little… tired,” I got out before closing my eyes once more. Something in the back of my brain told me I’d just messed up, big time, but I was too tired to care.


	6. Ramifications & Complications

## Ladybug

Chat had carefully carried me out of the Grand Palais and had made a concerted effort to place me in a secluded spot before turning back to the akuma. It was the second time he’d done that, almost as if he _knew_ I would be hunting for a place to transform. Part of my messed-up brain was informing me this was a normal, considerate action by my partner, but the other part was confused as to why he would even make the effort. As far as he was concerned, I was just an invited guest for the day.

I didn’t have much time and quickly slipped away from the tree and around to an empty bus shelter, opening my purse as I ran. Tikki floated out, but was apparently still perturbed with me and said nothing as I ducked into the space.

“Tikki – spots on!”

My red glow of transformation enveloped me, and once it cleared, I shot the yo-yo toward a building and hurled myself back toward the Grand Palais. As I soared through air toward the side of the building, I saw Chat rear back and smash the pane of glass he’d been sitting on and disappear into the space below. It took longer than I wanted for me to reach his position, and I dropped down onto the clear roof.

The heat emanating from the lights below was intense, and I could feel it radiating through my footwear. In fact, I was pretty sure it was slowly cooking my feet, so I started moving just to be safe. I shielded my eyes to look below, squinting, and was barely able to see a black form working around some sort of electronics off to the side of where the set had been. Chat appeared to be trying to disable something, as lights were turning off, but something changed; as I readied to drop down and assist, I saw him start whacking the console with his baton and then watched in horror as it exploded, flinging him across the space and into a wall.

That wasn’t what caused my jaw to drop.

As Chat’s form crossed the space, his transformation dropped, and I witnessed Chat Noir transition to Adrien Agreste a split second before smashing into the wall and sliding to the tile below, limply. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the purple akuma flutter away from the still-sparking electronics.

I froze completely.

_Adrien is Chat Noir._

My heart started to thump, harder than I thought possible.

 _Adrien – oh, my God! I’m in love with Adrien_ and _he’s Chat Noir? And he’s hurt!_

I recovered enough to shoot my yo-yo toward Adrien, sliding down and landing next to him. He was in sorry shape; his face had second degree burns, but only where his Chat Noir mask had not been protecting him. I thought he had grazed his head, as there was blood dropping onto the very expensive blazer he’d been wearing. I put a gentle hand on his shoulder, only belatedly realizing it was misshapen.

His eyes flew open and he groaned in pain. 

“Adrien? Are you okay?”

“Get the akuma,” he said through gritted teeth and with the force of Chat’s personality. “ _Go!_ I’ll be here.”

I only paused for another heartbeat, and then turned away and shot after the akuma. It hadn’t gotten far, and I was able to quickly capture it and clear it within a few moments. I dropped back to Adrien’s side.

“Adrien? Adrien, are you awake?”

His green eyes fluttered open again. “Yes, Milady,” he said, clearly not realizing he was no longer Chat. “Just a little tired…” he added before slumping back against the wall.

_This is bad. Please, please repair this, Ladybug Magic!_

I stood and threw my yo-yo into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!” I cried.

My little helpers swarmed the space, and in a few moments, had restored the area to the way it had been when I’d arrived with Adrien not more than an hour ago. I spent the barest minimum of time ensuring what appeared to have been a member of the photo crew had recovered from being akumatized before dropping back to Adrien’s side; the burns on his face and hands had been repaired, but the wound on the back of his head was still there, oozing, and his shoulder was still at an odd angle. I was at a loss as to why the Ladybug Magic had failed there and knew I needed to get him to the hospital.

I heard my earrings chirp as I carefully pulled Adrien into my arms and hurried across the space and out into the street. He groaned softly as I shifted him, brushing against his bad arm as I tried to get to my yo-yo. Mentally, I tried to recall which hospital was closer and decided on Hôpital Necker and started to hurtle across the city with my precious cargo.

I tried to ignore what I’d witnessed, and managed to bury it below my worry that Adrien was seriously injured. I probably should have waited for first responders to arrive, but I was swimming in guilt from the earlier akuma attack at school and needed to do _something_. I dropped into a run in front of the Emergency entrance, blowing through the doors and stopping at the triage desk.

The nurse behind the counter immediately recognized me. “Ladybug!”

“This is Adrien Agreste,” I said quickly. “He’s been seriously injured in an akuma attack and needs immediate attention. Please contact his father, Gabriel, and see he gets word about his son.”

She came around the desk, and waved to an orderly who immediately pushed a stretcher in my direction. I carefully laid Adrien down and heard the second-to-last warning chirps on my earrings.

“I’ve got to go back to the scene,” I said, “but I will be back.”

The nurse nodded and disappeared with the orderly into the rabbit warren of the Emergency Room.

I dashed back out into the street and found a convenient alley to detransform. Tikki immediately fluttered up. “Get back in there,” she said. “Quickly.”

I pressed a macaroon into her little hands. “I need to think for a second, Tikki,” I said. “I can’t believe what I saw.”

“You saw what you saw,” Tikki said bluntly. “You can’t change that now. Chat Noir needs you.”

“But Adrien is…?”

“Yes,” she said. “He’ll explain the rest. Now. Go!”

“I need to get back—”

“The scene was cleared,” Tikki said firmly. “ _Go!_ ”

“Tikki – spots on!”

The glow faded and I returned to the Emergency Room. The nurse I’d spoken to before was still there, and she quickly gave me directions to the curtained bed he’d been stationed in.

Adrien was propped up and hooked up to multiple machines, and was being tended to by a solidly built nurse. “How is he?” I asked, peering around the curtain.

“Ladybug?” the nurse said, his eyes widening. “I, uh…”

“I brought him in,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

He relaxed slightly. “The doctor was just in; they’ve already popped his dislocation back in place and I’ve just finished putting a butterfly on the gash on his head. He might have a concussion, but we won’t know until we run a few more tests.”

“Is he awake? Can I speak to him?”

“I’m awake,” Adrien said. He cracked open an eye. “Thanks for bringing me in,” he said.

“They should have called your father,” I said, and saw the nurse nod.

“He’s on his way in now,” the nurse confirmed.

“Could we have a moment?” I asked.

“Of course,” the nurse said. He stepped out and slid the curtain closed to provide a little more privacy.

I looked at Adrien. There had been enough heat left over inside the Grand Palais that sweat had caused his eye makeup to run, giving him a sort of raccoon look. 

I blinked. Not a racoon - with his green eyes, it looked more like he was still wearing the Chat mask. 

All of it started to come together: the hair, the voice, the eyes… oh, those eyes. I’d been blind to who my partner was. But again, in some corner of my brain, I was very much at ease with this sudden burst of knowledge. It felt like I shouldn’t be, though.

I wondered where to start, and decided the hospital was not the best place to be trading secrets. I stepped up to his side, and leaned close to his ear. “I know,” I whispered.

“Know what?” he replied, just as quietly.

“I saw your de-transformation,” I said simply.

He nodded, closing his eyes as he did so. “I was afraid someone might; I cut it too close.” He smiled slightly. “It’s not the first time, actually.”

“First time what?” I whispered back. “That you cut it close?”

“No,” he smiled wider and re-opened his green eyes. “That you know.” He paused. “Actually, technically, I think this will be _third_ time you’ve found out now.”

My eyes widened but before I could respond, a memory of the two of us having dinner on a rooftop overlooking Notre Dame burst into life. It was so strong, I staggered backwards a step and would have fallen if Adrien hadn’t used a rather Chat-like reflex to snag my elbow. It felt so real, and like it had only just happened.

“I’m going to go,” I said carefully, seeing the concern in his eyes. “I’ve got a lot to digest.”

“Of course, Milady,” he said with typical Chat aplomb. “I’d like to meet up with you later, but I have a little issue at home,” he said with chagrin. “I’ve, uh, been grounded.”

I smiled as I pulled back the curtain to go. “2000 at the usual spot, assuming you’re cleared to go?”

“I have a better idea,” Adrien said. “I’ll text you the address _and_ bring snacks.”

How had he done that? Did he _know_ I’d just thought about dinner? “The roof overlooking Notre Dame?” I asked, carefully.

He smiled widely. “Bingo, bugaboo,” he said.

* * *

## Adrien

Ladybug had been gone for less than thirty minutes before Father whistled in, all concern with no empathy. I heard him asking questions of my doctor, trying to determine my exact condition. I already knew that I’d scraped by with minor injuries – at least, as far as the tests had shown. By the time they’d gotten around to patching up the gash in my head, my quick healing ability had already shrunk it to a scratch and my head-ringing concussion was just a numbing headache that was quickly fading. The shoulder was still tender, but that, too, was on the mend. I suspected by the end of the evening, I’d be able to claw my way back up a wall again with no issue.

I let Father blather on with the doctor, more focused on my inadvertent reveal to Ladybug, pondering how this would affect my game plan. I felt like I had been making progress as Chat with Marinette, but this seemed to completely short circuit that campaign. Or had it?

I’d not tipped my hand that I knew who she was, much as I’d wanted to. And her reaction to my rooftop meeting suggestion seemed to indicate that some memory had been triggered. No, the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I should continue down the Chat-Marinette road a bit further. Now all I had to do was try and sneak away from the mansion.

Father had finally gotten all the answers he was going to get, and wordlessly started to bundle me up to go. Gorilla was just outside the curtain and carefully led our procession back through the Emergency Room and toward the sedan parked in the VIP lot. I tried to look pathetic as I slowly worked my way behind them. It wasn’t hard, I’d seen how my hair and makeup had been obliterated by the blast; with the dried blood on my blazer, I appeared to have survived the End of Days. But just barely.

Father sat next to me in the sedan and remained silent all the way back to the mansion. As we pulled up at the main staircase, he finally spoke. “I’m glad you’re okay, Adrien,” he said. “We’ll reschedule the photo shoot for next week.”

 _Of course we will_. I just nodded. What could I say? The show must go on.

We went up into the house and he tacked toward the atelier, and I trudged up to my room. Once inside, Plagg flew out from my shirt and made a beeline for the cheese fridge, downing several pieces in rapid succession before floating back out toward me. “You still look terrible,” he said, chewing on another piece of Camembert. “Better, but terrible.”

“I really need some sleep,” I agreed. I pulled my phone out and punched up my ordering app once more, re-ordering the same cannoli order from earlier but specifying a pickup instead of delivery. That done, I put the phone back in the dock, but then stared at it.

And then started to stare at my room, seeing it slightly differently than I had a few days earlier. It was odd how quickly I had gone from feeling it was a sanctuary to something more foreign. I started to wander the space, and found that the intercoms had apparently been repaired at some point that day. They appeared to be off, but maybe I was more paranoid now. 

I went back to my phone, punched up some random Jagged Stone tracks and turned the volume up, then beckoned to Plagg. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I feel like something is off in here,” I said, keeping my voice below the music. “This would be a good time to tell me you have a unique super ability to sniff out bugs or hidden cameras.”

“No such luck,” he said. “At least, not in this form. But your baton can do that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “When were you going to tell me about that function?” I asked, archly.

“When you needed to know,” he said. “And now you need to know.”

I tried not to chuckle. Were there cameras? Did I dare risk transforming? I still had some unresolved questions about my Father and his relationship with Hawkmoth. But I had to trust that they would bug my room, but not put me under video surveillance. There had to be some limits, right?

I decided to split the difference and drew the curtains across the windows, plunging the room into darkness in the late afternoon. I went into the bathroom and did the same with the smaller set of windows there, and once I was convinced it was pitch black, quietly slipped into my closet trailing Plagg.

“Bit extreme, don’t you think,” he said, his glowing green eyes floating next to me in the darkness.

“I’m not sure of anything, anymore,” I said honestly. “I don’t want to admit it to myself—”

I felt Plagg’s paw on my mouth, and he tugged me out of the closet and toward the shower.

“Turn this on,” he commanded.

I complied, and then he floated up toward my ear. “Someone knew you’d be in the closet,” he said. “Look behind the dress shirts once you transform.”

I nodded in the darkness. “Plagg – claws out!”

* * *

## Chat Noir

To his credit, Plagg kept the transformation sequence to a minimum with a muted green _poof!_ I took a moment to let my night vision kick in, and then dropped to all fours to enter the closet once more. I quickly found the small thumbdrive-sized microphone taped to the wall behind my dress shirts, and another on the opposite side behind my more casual items. Both did not appear to be WiFi enabled, but more of the type that would need to be retrieved and downloaded later.

Clearly someone had known I’d used that spot before.

I crawled out again, and kept low to the floor; slowly, I perused the bathroom and found another device in the sauna, wedged behind the radio system. Another had been taped to the inside of my sock drawer, causing me to raise an eyebrow. This was very thorough.

I moved out into the bedroom and popped open my baton. Sure enough, it had a new scanning function, and I started to wave it through the space. In short order, I found seven more of the hidden microphones spread equally through the space; the intercom was set to passively transmit without indicating it was on and my landline had been bugged. 

More troubling, though, was what I found on the balcony above the space. I’d carefully crawled up the rock wall, avoiding what the baton was calling a “field of vision” device. On the book portion of my shelving, I managed to locate a pinprick sized camera hidden in what must have been a hollowed-out edition of my Mandarin-to-French dictionary. It had been angled toward my windows, particularly the one I normally used to escape as Chat Noir. My night vision confirmed what the baton was telling me – the angle was such it was only on the window; even a fisheye lens would not extend much beyond the back of the couch.

But there was still at least one camera _in_ my room.

Avoiding the field of the lens, I swept the space again and didn’t locate anything else. I carefully climbed back down and re-entered the bathroom in a crouch, this time using the baton to scan. A bottle of shampoo on the shelf over the sink had the same setup, pointing to the window I’d often used in that space as it was more protected.

I leaned against the cabinet, sitting on the tile, contemplating. Both escape methods were monitored, and if I were a betting teenager, I’d assume the exterior angle of those windows were also now covered as well. The conclusion was inescapable: either Father, or Nathalie, seemed to suspect I was Chat Noir and had been using those windows to come and go. Since they hadn’t approached me about it yet, I had to believe this meant they were still just suspicions; the monitoring devices had to have gone in while I was at school today, perhaps in an attempt to finally catch me in the act.

And, perhaps not coincidentally, Father just happened to ground me yesterday.

Cameras plus grounding equaled trying to smoke out Chat Noir.

But why would Father be so concerned? I found myself not wanting to pursue the line of logic that was crowding out everything else. It wasn’t that he was just a concerned single parent, was it? There was more.

_He had the Grimoire._

_He had taken an inordinate interest in the Miraculous ring._

_Akumas generally attacked the school._

_He seemed to be acutely aware of my movements._

_Talking about Ladybug had made him visibly upset._

_I’d seen him akumatized_ , I reminded myself. _He can’t be Hawkmoth._

 _But he can,_ I argued. _You threw yourself off a building, remember?_

 _I’m not doing this right now_ , I said.

 _Then when?_ I asked myself. _You’re avoiding the obvious. Figure out why and it will stop blinding you._

I shook my head to clear it. I needed to figure out a surreptitious exit; now, more than ever, I needed to talk to Ladybug. Regardless of where her memories were, she’d have a plan.

She always did.


	7. Escape Plan

## Chat Noir

The inspiration for my escape suddenly appeared as I idly tossed my baton hand-to-hand in the darkness of the bathroom. It was almost too simple. But it might work, even if I had a chaperone.

I popped open the baton and swapped to the GPS function. Ladybug popped up on the screen, close to the Bakery. I smiled and flipped over to the texting function.

 ** _Chat:_** _Hey_

**_LB:_ ** _Still on for tonight?_

**_Chat:_ ** _yeah, but still working on escape plan. Wanna help?_

**_LB:_ ** _Ok, what do you need?_

**_Chat:_ ** _It’s not complicated but we need a friend to make it work._

**_LB:_ ** _I’m game._

I texted the details and after she digested them, agreed to participate.

“All right,” I said quietly as I returned the baton to the small of my back. “Plagg – claws in.”

* * *

## Adrien

I had settled in at my desk, innocuously doing homework when there was a knock at my door. Nathalie entered and I noted the time was a little after 1800.

“Adrien, your classmate called the house and wanted to know why you weren’t at the group meeting tonight.” She stared at me coldly. “You didn’t have that on your calendar.”

“I cancelled it when Father grounded me,” I said.

“She’s given me the impression that you are a critical part of the team.”

“Yes,” I said, turning back to my homework. “Not much I can do about it.”

She paused. “Your father has thought it over and realized, in light of today’s events, he may have been a bit harsh on you.”

I continued to work at drawing stick figures in my math notebook. Not that Nathalie could see it.

“He has lifted the grounding,” she said, “and restored limited access to your funds for you.”

“He has?” I said, turning slightly and putting on a relieved/excited expression. Even Nathalie could be fooled by Model Magic.

“Yes,” she said. “Shall I have your bodyguard drive you over?”

“I’d prefer to walk, if you don’t mind,” I said. “I’ve been more or less shuttled all over the place for a few days, and it’s not far to the meeting.”

Her eyes flicked to my phone, in the dock. “Be sure to take your phone, just in case.”

“Of course,” I said, as I stood and started randomly stuffing books into my backpack.

“Be home by 2300,” she said as she quietly left the room.

I waited a moment and then exited my room and trotted down the steps and out the front door, feeling free for the first time in a while. My shoulder felt nearly normal. I exited through the double gate and started toward the Bakery, carefully keeping track of my surroundings. As I suspected, Gorilla was hanging back on the opposite sidewalk, trying to stay out of sight. He was painfully obvious, though, but I played along. 

I’d hoped they weren’t going to track me, but suspected they would. I’d wanted to scope the exterior of the mansion for the cameras I assumed were there, but that would have to wait until another time. 

The Bakery wasn’t far if I went through the air as Chat Noir; it did take about twenty minutes walking, though, and Gorilla was definitely not happy about it. At length, I pushed into the front door of the store and found Madame Dupain-Cheng behind the counter.

“Adrien!” she said. “Marinette said you’d be coming. Go ahead up; she had to run a quick errand and will be back.”

 _She sure is,_ I thought, smiling to Sabine.

“Thanks, Madame,” I said as I moved through the rear of the store and into the family space beyond, knowing full well Marinette/Ladybug was actually waiting for Chat Noir over on my favorite Notre Dame-facing rooftop. I kept to my end of the plan and dropped my books on her desk, carefully leaving my phone with them.

I then moved out into the corridor and crossed into the spare bedroom past me had used very recently. Carefully closing the door behind me, I quietly called out: “Plagg – claws out!”

* * *

## Chat Noir

I quietly lifted open the window and swung out to the wall, scanning the sidewalk below. Gorilla was stationed where I expected, watching the front door. I used my claws to climb toward the back of the building, then leapt into the gathering dusk, helicoptering with my baton over to the building adjacent, then running across the rooftops until I landed quietly next to a waiting Ladybug.

“Milady,” I said, stowing my baton. “Thanks for the assist.”

“My pleasure,” she said, as she leaned on the railing. She looked at me sheepishly, and held out the mostly empty box of cannoli that she’d picked up from Phillipe’s; I’d made the ask knowing it was going to be difficult to shake my tail from the mansion. I hadn’t counted on her snarfing them down in my absence. 

I smirked as I snagged the last one. “I wasn’t _that_ late,” I said defensively.

“It’s been a long, weird, day,” she said.

“Tell me about it,” I said.

“We’ve been here together before,” she said, turning in the space. “I remember telling you I was in love with—” she turned and smiled. “Well, _you_ , without realizing I was talking to you.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I remember.”

“This afternoon, while we were in the hospital, I suddenly had a vibrant memory of us eating Philippe’s lasagna here.” She looked at me, pointedly. “But I don’t remember doing that. Did I?”

“Yes,” I said. “In fact, it was less than a week ago.”

“Am I dating Chat Noir?” she asked in a rush. “Just l like what you said in that video? On the Ladyblog?”

“You are,” I said simply.

She went white. “I slapped you yesterday.”

I nodded.

“But you would have _normally_ kissed me.”

I nodded again.

“And I would have…?”

“Yes,” I smiled wolfishly. “And willingly.”

“Oh, Chat,” she said. “I’m so sorry… but I just don’t remember _any_ of that.” She paused. “That must have been quite the shock…”

I again licked the powdered sugar off my paw, wondering how best to wade into this discussion. Only a day ago, I was blind with anger at what she had done. With time and distance – and, admittedly, bigger problems with Father – I had gained a bit of perspective. Ladybug hadn’t been wrong, necessarily. Just perhaps a bit off on how to fix the situation.

Something of my thoughts must have been reflected in my face, for Ladybug caught it. “You know how this happened, don’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.

I sighed. “This is going to be hard to explain, LB.”

She put a hand on my arm. “Tell me everything.”

“All right,” I said. I took her by the arm and we sat together facing the river.

I started at the beginning, sketching in the details she didn’t remember of our fight against Last Walker, and how I had discovered who she was through a series of missteps she had made, and how, at the same time, she came to know who I was as well. 

She raised her eyebrow at that. “So you know I am---”

“Marinette?” I finished. “Yes.” I waited a beat. “Thanks for asking her to help out Adrien tonight, by the way,” I added, smiling widely. “That must have been a _very_ short conversation.”

“It was,” she laughed.

I told her how we had spent months dating as Chat and Ladybug, and how we had slowly built up to having Marinette and Adrien become a couple, with the Sweethearts Ball being our big entrance to society, such as it was. “That went off the rails pretty badly,” I said, “between Father preventing me from going, and the whole akuma villain thing.”

“Which is why Chat took Marinette,” she said, making a connection but not necessarily remembering, yet.

“Yes,” I said. “We so incensed Hawkmoth that he tried a dangerous time spell and sent me to the past.”

“How far back?”

“To Stormy Weather,” I said. I filled in how past me had come “forward” and what we wound up doing to repair the timeline.

I paused. “After all of that, you had come to the conclusion that Hawkmoth was close to figuring out our true identities. You worked with Master Fu and came up with a memory potion that was supposed to block out anything we knew about each other outside of our professional relationship as Miraculous Holders.”

“I did?”

“Yes,” I continued. “As misguided as it was—”

I’d not intended to editorialize, but apparently there was still some residual anger there.

“-- your assumption seemed to be that if we were again in the dark about our alter egos, and if Hawkmoth had somehow captured one of us, it would protect the other since we’d once again not know anything beyond our superhero identities. Our friends and family would be protected.”

She ruminated for a moment. “That seems like a flawed plan,” she said at length. “It doesn’t solve the problem that Hawkmoth is the one who needs to forget – not us.”

I looked heavenward. “Finally, some logic,” I said. I looked back at her. “In fairness to you, I’d died twice by then and we’d had a close call with Hawkmoth. I’m not certain you were thinking clearly.”

“Twice?” she said, eyes wide. “Thanks for giving me a pass, considering.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far, Milady,” I warned.

Masked eyebrows went up at that, but she refrained from pursuing it. “And yet, you seem to remember all of this. Did the potion not work on you?”

“Well,” I said, “after you betrayed my trust and slipped a paralyzing agent into my coffee---”

“I did _what?_ ”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It was ugly. I’m still a little angry about it, and it will be months before I let you buy me coffee.”

A knowing expression dawned on her face. “That explains patrol a few nights ago,” she said. “You were _so_ not yourself.”

“You wouldn’t be either if the person you loved had tried to rip your memories of them away, forcibly.” I said a little bit too harshly. I blew out a breath, trying to re-center myself. “I managed to fend you off, but you downed the potion yourself before I could stop you.”

Ladybug continued to shake her head. “None of this is resonating,” she said. 

I’d given some thought to how I might be able to jog her memories, and also had reviewed mentally some of the more unusual ways we had overcome the power of an akuma. Wayzz’s suggestion had fed into a logical hunch that the potion might work along the same principles but couldn’t help thinking my Fairytale longshot idea was just that – a longshot. None of what I had said had moved the needle, so this was unlikely to as well.

But I _needed_ it to work. Maybe just _wanting_ it to help would be enough. 

I made a decision.

“Do you trust me?” I said.

Without missing a beat, Ladybug replied: “With my life.”

I slowly leaned over to her, placed my paws gently on her face and drew her into a long, passionate kiss.

* * *

## Ladybug

Chat had gently pressed his lips to mine and started to rather passionately kiss me. It had the feeling of experience behind it, as if we had been doing this regularly. He came up for air briefly, and then gently went in for a second helping.

Other than the interesting feelings it was generating, I wasn’t sure what he was attempting to do, other than finally getting to kiss me as Ladybug. I smiled inwardly, realizing I was making one of his dreams come true in that moment, while possibly getting my own as well. For after all, it _was_ Adrien beneath that mask.

I closed my eyes and leaned into him, giving myself over to the moment.

Slowly at first, then in a waterfall, memories began to cascade in front of my mind’s eye.

_Lasagna on the rooftop. Man, I’d really needed it that day._

_Chat sitting on the roof of the school, telling me he knew who I was._

_Sketching at the plaza, with him playfully teasing me and offering the bell design for my dress._

_Sneaking Carapace into the mansion, using Rena’s Mirage to make him appear to be Adrien._

_Watching those old_ Star Trek _movies and laughing together at the shared experience._

_Dancing the night away with Chat, knowing it was actually Adrien who’d been with me all evening._

_Chat is giving me the pendant. And I’m giving him a ring – I’ve seen it on him!_

_Adrien loves me. Both versions of me._

Like a cork popping out of a Champaign bottle, I suddenly felt whole. But I also had other memories crashing back in a whirlwind of emotion.

_Master Fu – he thinks it’s the only way._

_I’ll put it in his coffee – he trusts me and won’t think twice._

_Why am I doing this? He’s so upset – I’ve betrayed him!_

_It’s for the best! I have to complete it!_

My eyes snapped open and I pulled back from Chat abruptly. His eyes were still closed, and he was radiating a bliss that I was nowhere close to feeling at that moment. I put my hands around his head and pulled him back in for a quick kiss, aware that I was crying as I did so.

“Chat,” I said carefully, quietly. “What _have_ I done?”

His wide green eyes opened, and I saw them blaze with the deep compassion he’d always shown. There was some hurt in there, to be sure, and not just a little bit of concern. “You remember, then?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” I said simply. “ _All_ of it,” I emphasized. “The good _and_ the bad.” I ran a finger along the edge of his mask, tentatively. “How did you know this was going to work?”

“Intuitive guess,” he said, smiling. “It wouldn’t be the first time that the power of love had broken a spell. I had the law of averages on my side.”

Despite the pit in my stomach, I laughed. “And if it hadn’t?”

“No downside,” Chat replied with a grin. “Either way, I was getting a chance to kiss you.”

He pulled me into a genuine hug, and for the first time all day, being embraced by him felt normal. I looked up at him. “You have to know I was trying to protect us – to protect _this_ ,” I started.

Chat hugged me firmly one more time. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t still angry,” he said. “And I’m not kidding, it will be years before I let you buy me coffee.” 

His green eyes met mine. “You used my trust against me, and that is a hard, _very_ hard, road to come back from.”

“Chat –” I started, seeing for the first time, clearly, how badly I had hurt him.

He put a gentle claw on my lips to stop me, then leaned in for another quick kiss. “There will be a time to talk about this,” he said, “but we have bigger issues that need to be dealt with first.” 

He paused. What he had to say next seemed difficult for him. “Father has started to monitor me, and not in a simple way. My room at the mansion has been seriously bugged, my phone was compromised and every action on my computer is being recorded and analyzed.” Chat turned to the night sky. “There are also cameras monitoring the windows of both bedroom and bath, and I’m pretty sure there are others on the exterior.”

I couldn’t help the shocked expression on my face. “Why?” was the only thing I could think to say.

Chat sighed. “There are only two possibilities,” he said. “Remember the intercoms in the room?”

I nodded. “You thought someone might have recorded our conversation,” I said, “especially since Hawkmoth knew about them.”

“Exactly,” Chat said. “Either Father is working _with_ Hawkmoth…” he started.

_Oh. My. God._

“But we saw him akumatized,” I said.

“And I threw myself off of a building,” he quickly rejoindered, then started to tick off more on his claws. “And Rena made Carapace look like Adrien so we could be in the same place at the same time, and repeated it with Chat Noir later.” He looked back at me. “Regardless, we weren’t the ones with the memories that needed to be erased, bugaboo. Hawkmoth has seen enough to connect the dots.” He sighed. “Whether he is also Father is a whole other issue entirely.”

“Hmmm,” I said. “That presents an interesting idea on how to handle this.”

Chat looked at me askance, immediately knowing what I was thinking. How had I’d forgotten how intertwined we were now? “If you are suggesting we somehow lure Hawkmoth out of his lair and then douse him with your malfunctioning memory potion… that is the wildest plan I’ve heard from you yet.”

“Yes,” I said thoughtfully. “But I have a sense of when he might try to get to us again.”

Chat nodded. “Night at the Museum,” he agreed. “Makes sense. He won’t be able to resist: having that many of our fellow students in one place is a tactic he’s used against us before.”

“And,” he continued, eyes full of a pain I couldn’t conceive of, “if he does suspect strongly that Adrien is Chat Noir, he’ll know for sure at least one of us will be there.”

Impulsively, I reached up and pulled him close. “I don’t know how I could’ve willingly removed this feeling, kitty,” I said, as I stroked his hair. “However this turns out with Hawkmoth, I promise you I will be right there, by your side, the entire time.”

He sighed and buried his face in my hair, and I felt a little of the tension in his body fade.

It was a small start, but we were heading down that road back, together.

Chat pulled back. “I should get home,” he said apologetically. “Father reversed the grounding, but only in an attempt to try and catch me leaving. I need to keep him off balance for a bit.”

I nodded. “Let’s get back to the Bakery,” she said, and I started to get up.

He put a hand on my arm. “Actually, I need some help figuring out how I’ll escape in the future,” he said. “This was a one-off; I don’t think the ‘study group’ excuse will work again.”

“Good point,” I said. “If you can’t get out of your room, are there any other blind spots you can use?”

“I’ve never cased my own home,” he laughed. “There could be. There are several empty guest rooms on the third floor we don’t use often, plus the attic. But it would be weird for Adrien to start wandering.”

“It’s your home,” I said. “Why would it be?”

Chat looked like Adrien for a moment, especially when he started to scratch the back of his neck; that pained look appeared in his eyes, too. “That’s not entirely how it works in my family. I have my part of the mansion, Father has the rest. I pretty much go where I’m allowed to go, and the third floor and attic sections, while not strictly off limits, are not places I am welcome.”

He looked up. “I know from the time I stole the Grimoire from him that there are cameras in Father’s work area; I have to assume now that most interior areas of the house are covered. Having Chat skulk around will likely draw as much attention as Adrien.”

Chat stood himself this time, and helped me to my feet. “Let me think about it a bit,” I said. “I might have something for you in the morning. Until then,” I smiled, leaning up for a kiss, “be a good kitty and play by the rules…”

He returned the favor and then swept me into his arms to carry me back the Bakery. “You know me, Milady,” he said, smiling broadly.

“That’s what worries me…”


	8. Hidden in Plain Sight

## Adrien

I calmly left the Bakery, holding the box of macaroons Marinette had insisted I take with me. In the space of less than an hour, it felt like the world had righted itself ever so slightly. I still had some issues to work out with respect to how I was feeling about her, but I had to admit, having her willingly embrace me had gone a long way toward melting the iceberg that had crashed into my heart.

I tried not to notice as Gorilla fell in step behind me, trailing again as he did on my trip out to the Bakery. Playing the good son, I dutifully took the most direct route back to the mansion and arrived twenty minutes later. I did take a moment to bend down and tie my sneaker before entering the gates; as I deliberately retied the lace, I managed to pick out the security camera that had been mounted inside one of the light posts, covering the front of the mansion. As I stood back up, I had to assume there was a similar setup on the side facing my bedroom.

So much for my carefree days of sneaking out that way, then.

I pushed through the gates and entered the mansion, and not surprisingly, wasn’t met by anyone. I moved to my bedroom and closed the door behind me, setting the macaroons down on the coffee table and then flopping down on the couch face forward. Plagg said something from inside my shirt, and I rolled over; he floated out, careful to stay below the couch and out of line of sight of the camera we now knew as up on the bookcase.

I started to say something to him, and he quickly shushed me and pointed to my phone. I got the hint and stood up; as I walked to the dock, I queued up some of the hardest of the hard rock Jagged Stone had on offer and hit play after inserting it into the dock again. I then flopped back onto my bed, and Plagg quickly joined me.

“How the heck are we going to sneak out of here now?” I asked, tilting close to his ear so he could hear me. 

He moved close to mine. “How old is this house?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied, and started toward my computer. “I can look it up. Why?”

He put a paw on my arm. “Don’t use that one,” he said. “You might not want them to know you were doing escape route research.”

I frowned. “All I have besides that is my tablet,” I said, “and it’s internet restricted.”

Plagg smiled at me. “That’s not the only device you have,” he said.

I looked at him, not following for a moment. Then the light bulb went off. “My baton.”

“Guaranteed untraceable,” he said. “Pull the plans like you do on other buildings. See if there are some unusual corridors hiding behind these walls.”

“OK,” I said, yawning. The clock on the phone said it was 2241; I really did need to get some sleep, but I was curious now. I made a show of getting ready for bed, snapped off the lights and slid into bed, pulling the covers up and over my head like I had done back when I was reading my favorite comics by flashlight. 

Back before _I_ started to appear in comics. What a crazy life this had become.

Plagg floated next to me, his glowing green eyes marking his location. “Ready?” I asked.

“No,” he said as always.

“Plagg – claws out!” I whispered.

* * *

## Chat Noir

The green glow faded and as I squirmed around to retrieve the baton from the small of my back, I briefly pondered how much easier reading those comics would have been with my Chat night vision.

I clicked open the data mode on the baton and started to connect to the city’s planning database. I’d used it a number of times in the past to, as Ladybug reminded me to no end, look before leaping into questionable situations with akumatized villains. If it had been built in Paris, there was likely a three-dimensional rendering I would be able to access.

I punched up my address and was rewarded with multiple results. Flipping through them, I found the orthographic drawings of the mansion, including a floor-by-floor plan. The date on the designs indicated there had been some renovations just before I’d been born, but nothing since – at least, nothing that was publicly available.

Something about that made me pause. I seemed to remember extensive work being done in the mansion around the time my mother disappeared – but I could be mistaken; the wave of emotions I’d been experiencing at the loss of my mother had created a teenage zombie for a few months, so I couldn’t be sure of anything around that period. Maybe it was innocuous enough it hadn’t needed formal approval. Or maybe I was being paranoid. 

_With good reason,_ I thought, smiling wryly as I continued to flip through the plans.

The first floor was what I expected; I flipped to my floor, and saw with great interest that my room had actually once been a breakfast room, with no bathroom, and just a single story; the architectural notes indicated that my future parents had decided to turn it into the space it was today for their son.

It was odd – I had vague memories of past me seeing this space as it had originally existed when all traces of Adrien had been erased from the timeline by Hawkmoth. Part of me wondered how that timeline had come about, but the rest of me wanted to put that whole episode behind me.

Where the bathroom was today used to be a servant service closet. That was interesting, but not as interesting as the note that the “clothes chute would be covered over and not removed.”

_Clothes chute?_

I flipped to the basement plan, and sure enough, the chute opened up where the original laundering area was in the basement. We used an external service now, but it looked like the space was still there. And, I noted with some excitement, it appeared to have a servant entrance into the back alley behind the mansion.

Flipping back to the second floor plan, I made an educated guess that the clothes chute was behind one wall of the closet, possibly making it a very convenient hidden entrance.

There was no way I was going to get any sleep now. 

I slipped out of bed and pressed myself to the ground, skulking quietly into the bathroom. I gently slid the closet door open, mindful of the microphones, and then slid the door closed. Using the plan on my tiny baton screen, I guessed about where the chute was supposed to be, pressed a feline ear to the wall, and carefully started to tap a claw against the drywall.

The first two places I tried sounded normal. The third echoed into the empty space beyond.

I kept tapping until I’d determined how wide the chute was, then sat back for a moment. This next part might be noisy, and I needed a way to disable the microphones there in the closet.

Or did I?

I flipped through the options on the baton, wondering if this would be a time that Plagg might introduce yet another new feature on my trusty device. My eyes bugged out when I saw a new option on the tools menu.

_TARGETED EM PULSE_

“No way,” I breathed. I tapped the info icon (the baton conveniently had a built-in help system) and read on:

_PRODUCES SHORT RANGE ELECTROMAGNETIC PULSE THAT CAN TEMPORARILY BLIND AND/OR DISABLE ELECTRONIC DEVICES FOR SHORT PERIODS OF TIME. RECOMMENDED SAFE DURATION: TWENTY MINUTES. MAX DURATION: THIRTY MINUTES. ACTIVATION KEYSTROKE: RIGHT – CENTER – THIRD._

That _might_ be just enough time.

My night vision quickly picked out the microphone locations in the closet, and I directed the business end of the baton toward the first, triggering the burst using the right, center and third pawprint buttons. A short series of electronic chirps told me it had fired, followed by a positive-sounding chime that it had successfully disabled the target. I aimed at the second and repeated the process, and then returned to where I thought the chute would be.

Carefully, I slid my clothes out of the way and scribed out a square with a claw that would just be big enough to get through. I then extended the claw and repeated again, then a third time, deeper still. By the fifth run, I could smell musty air pressing through the space telling me I’d broken through. Carefully, I sunk both sets of claws into the center of the drywall I’d scribed and pulled gently backward. It came out with a gentle _thunk_ , and I slid it to the side.

My baton chirped – I was three minutes into the recommended time on the EM pulse.

Carefully, I poked my head into the space. It went upward toward what would have been the room above mine, had it not become incorporated into my current space. I turned my head the other way and could see it extended downward beyond the first floor. The air was stale, and I could see the cobwebs from disuse.

I stowed my baton and hopped into the space, which was plenty big enough for me. Pressing my claws into opposite sides of the walls, I started to let myself slide carefully, controlling my descent with pressure from my boots. I passed what must have been an area close to the kitchen, and continued down. I came to the bottom and dropped out of the chute into a crouch in the basement.

The space was empty, but the servant door was still there. I unlocked it and carefully pulled it open. What I saw on the other side made me smile a wide, wide Chat grin.

Freedom was just behind it.

* * *

## Adrien

I’d leapt back up into the chute, carefully replaced the drywall, and had skulked back into bed, dropping my transformation only after again pulling the sheets up and over my head. This time, though, I found that I had to scrunch just a bit to clear my feline ears. Once the glow faded, I peeked out, squinted and saw from my phone it was much later than I realized, rolled over and immediately fell asleep.

Sunlight spilling through the windows ultimately woke me from the dead; I’d never pulled the curtains after my late-night foray and was paying for it now. I cracked open an eye, quasi blinded by the sun, and saw that it was quarter past eight.

_Yikes!_

I bounded out of bed and was halfway to the shower when my fuzzy brain reminded me it was Saturday. And, actually, one off the rare Saturdays that I didn’t have anything scheduled. I slowed down a bit and took a longer than normal shower, donned some weekend duds, and after pulling my phone out of the dock, padded down to a late breakfast, thankful for having gotten a few extra hours of much needed rest. Considering it had been in the dock all evening, it was only at seventy-five percent on the battery; it would be enough to get through the day, but I’d have to dock it for sure tonight.

As I suspected, the buffet was awaiting me and I loaded up on crepes and croissants, and some in-season fruit. Munching, I mentally started to plan how to sneak out and get to Ladybug.

_Saturday. Why do I feel like something is going on at school?_

Breaking protocol for the dining room, I pulled out my phone and texted Nino.

**_Adrien:_ ** _Dude, I feel like something’s up at school today. What am I forgetting?_

**_Nino:_ ** _lol it’s STEAM Saturday and you’re gonna be late._

**_Adrien:_ ** _whoop! On my way!_

I’d completely forgotten, and was now paying for not reconnecting my calendar on the phone after rebuilding it. I bolted the last of my breakfast and rushed back to my room to change into more appropriate Adrien attire, grabbed my school tablet and bookbag, and dashed back down the stairs to the foyer.

Nathalie was nowhere to be found, and Gorilla appeared to be MIA as well. Carefully, I knocked on the door to the atelier; there was no response, so I gently pushed it open. “Nathalie? Father?”

Father’s workspace was empty, Nathalie’s desk vacant. It was Saturday, but Nathalie was omnipresent; it was weird that she wasn’t around. My inner Chat, though, decided it was an interesting opportunity.

Mindful that I’d been caught in this area on camera before, I moved to Nathalie’s desk in search of pen and paper, thinking an old school note might provide some cover. I found both conveniently on the side facing her monitor and moved to that side, gently brushing the keyboard with my bag to disable the screensaver. As I bent to write my note, I flicked a glance at the screen.

_Locked. Clever, Nathalie..._

I kept writing my note, slowly printing each word while I scanned the top of her work surface. It was amazingly clean, matching the space, and other than an invoice from a local construction firm off to one side, didn’t hold anything particularly interesting. I finished my note and tore it from the sheet, then stood to try and decide where to place it. I went for the obvious and put it down on the center of her blotter.

Except, as it turned out, it wasn’t a blotter. My touch on the surface activated some sort of touchscreen, and it burst into life displaying several stacks of photos in three groups. I sat back down, all pretense gone, and tapped the first stack.

They turned out to be extreme closeups of Chat Noir from the stadium, focused on the ladybug ring. I flipped through the angles, but the intent was obvious: Nathalie had made a connection. I tapped the stack and it retreated back into a smaller folder; I moved to the second. These were stills from the news coverage at the Grand Palais yesterday; again, most were cropped closeups of Chat, focusing specifically on the hand with the ladybug ring. There was a particularly damning shot from when I’d gestured to the crowd to stay back.

Growing more concerned, I closed the second stack and opened the third. All were shots of me as Adrien from the photo shoot before things had literally heated up. Again, as with the other stacks, there were several cropped closeups; this stack, though, was focusing on both rings. There was one version that had been merged into a side-by-side shot of the silver civilian version of the Miraculous ring and the black-and-glowing-green-paw version Chat Noir wore; a second showed the ladybug ring on both Adrien and Chat Noir. Looking at it myself, it would have been hard to make the connection between the two versions of the Miraculous since they appeared so differently. But my mistake in keeping the ladybug ring on in both guises was coming home to roost.

I closed the third stack and put the note over on the landline phone instead, and hurriedly left the atelier. It was starting to feel like I was going to need to face a very uncomfortable truth, but I didn’t want to do it without Ladybug.

Gorilla was still absent, so I continued out and down the main steps, now seriously late for STEAM Saturday. I ducked into the first alley that was clear, but paused before I pulled out my ring and instead pulled my phone back out again. It was under seventy percent now, discharging far faster than normal.

I must have been sleeping far more soundly than I thought. 

I carefully put the phone down on the pavement.

“Plagg – claws out!”

* * *

## Chat Noir

After the transformation washed over me, I knelt down to retrieve my “normal” phone and carefully slid it into one of my costume pockets. I didn’t normally keep it on me when I was Chat, but alarm bells were going off in the back of my brain this morning, and today I was planning on paying attention to them.

I deftly rose to the rooftops and maniacally soared across the skyline of Paris, trying to make up time. I tried to multitask on the way, attempting to recall what this day’s project was supposed to have been. So much had happened since the last STEAM Saturday, it was a bit hard to recall, but as I closed in on the school, I was pretty sure we were building robots that were supposed to complete a series of tasks on a prescribed course that would be laid out on the basketball court. I’d never built a robot before, but my part for the team was helping write the software that would run it. Max was better across the board on everything, but was doing the practical work on designing the robot…

_Max._

I was so lost in thought that I overshot my mark on a rooftop and had to slide down into an emergency claw grab to prevent myself from sailing over the edge. I came to rest in a cloud of tile dust, still thinking. I knew my talents in coding, but I knew his were superior. And if anyone could help me get around some of the systems Nathalie had installed, he’d be the best option.

I smiled my crafty Chat smile. Adrien was going to be very, very late for STEM Saturday.

Pulling the baton from the small of my back, I clicked it into phone mode. I suspected Marinette was already at school, and wasn’t surprised that Ladybug didn’t answer. I scrolled down to Marinette’s direct line and dialed.

“Chat?” Marinette’s surprised face answered. “You are _really_ late.” She paused, worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Princess,” I said as I hunched down on the rooftop. “But I’m going to be a lot later. I have an idea,” I said, assuming we were on an open line. “And I could use some help fleshing it out.”

“All right,” she nodded. I watched her eyes scan the space, and the shot changed as she started to move away from the group she’d been working with. “See you soon.”

I smiled as she clicked off; I had one more thing I need to do before I continued on. 

“Plagg – claws in!”

* * *

## Adrien

The transformation glow descended and I was back to being Adrien once more. Plagg floated up.

“Do you have another idea for how to get off this roof?” he asked, peering over the edge. 

I laughed. “I needed to ask you something before I got to school,” I said. “It’s hard to do that when you’re in the ring, you know.”

“Okay,” he replied, warily. “You’re not going to switch brands of cheese on me, are you?”

“No,” I said. “Look, you remember back during that music video akuma, you reminded me that the costume we create is what the Miraculous Holder wants most deep down?”

“Yes,” he said, carefully.

I held up the ladybug ring. “I must be wanting this, then,” I said simply. “That has to be why it doesn’t disappear when I transform.”

Plagg nodded. “That ring represents a lot to you. But you can still wear it as Chat Noir, but not have it visible to others.” He smiled. “After all, you are a black cat – the king of stealth.”

“You’re being cryptic again,” I frowned.

“It’s not just that you _want_ it,” he said. “You have to also _want_ people not to see it while transformed.”

I looked at the ring again, not quite following. “Kind of like some sort of visualization technique?”

“Whatever floats your boat, kid.”

“Okay,” I said, “let’s give it a shot.” I looked up at him. “Based on what we found this morning, I think it might be best if I hide this little beauty, especially since I have a feline we’re going to be Chat Noir quite a bit today.”

Plagg didn’t even dignify my pun with a response. “Cheese,”’ was all he said at length.

I opened my bag and gave him a slice of the premium Camembert I’d stashed there this morning. “I’m trying to make up for that long night,” I said apologetically as I watched his eyes widen in excitement.

“My love,” Plagg said as he (I’m not kidding) caressed the slice of odiferous cheese before downing it whole.

“Plagg – claws out!”

* * *

## Chat Noir

The green wave washed over me and I was Chat Noir once more. I’d kept my eyes closed, though, wondering how to “think” as Plagg had indicated. I wasn’t sure I’d been successful, for I could still feel the slight embrace of the ladybug ring around my finger.

I opened my eyes and raised my hand. The ring wasn’t visible; there wasn’t so much as a bump. Yet, I could still feel it against my skin. I started to smile, and with my other hand, felt along my finger. It definitely wasn’t there, and yet, it was.

 _Neat trick_ , I thought. _I’ll have to tell Ladybug if she wants to wear the pendant again…_

I hurled myself off the roof and continued toward school.


	9. Countering the Plan

## Nathalie

She arrived back in Gabriel’s atelier via the service lift from Hawkmoth’s aerie. He’d been in a foul mood again, one that had festered since the evening he’d discovered the Le Chat Noir pendant. She prided herself on providing solid data to her boss when requested, and was concerned that his personal feelings for his son had started to cloud his judgement. Adrien had clearly become a danger to him, yet Gabriel was unwilling to take any action.

Nathalie worked her way toward her desk, pausing halfway to catch her breath. It was becoming progressively harder for her to make it through a day; the coughing was not the worst of it, but rather, being continually run down – especially for someone in a position such as hers, with a round-the-clock demanding boss.

 _Well,_ she thought with gallows humor, _I suppose it depends on which boss I am referring to._

She made it to the desk and sat down, grateful for the support of her chair. Her desk was as she had left it, save for a yellow note that had been placed atop her phone, which she immediately picked up.

> _Nathalie –_
> 
> _It’s STEAM Saturday and I completely forgot about it. My phone crashed this week and the calendar isn’t working right. No one is around so I will walk over. Back tonight. Will have phone._
> 
> _\-- Adrien_

She read it twice, turned to her computer and logged back in. She’d known about STEAM Saturday, of course, but when she’d gone into his room to wake him that morning, she’d found Adrien deep asleep. Nathalie had instead taken the opportunity to snag his phone from the dock and quickly take it back to her station.

Once there, she’d confirmed herself that something catastrophic had happened, wiping everything off his phone, including her tracking software. Her backdoor to the phone was no longer working, either, so she’d quickly plugged it into her workstation and sideloaded her tools back onto the phone, her eyes flicking to the clock as she did so. She’d had to work fast to get everything reconfigured before he woke.

Her tools let her bypass his facial recognition security, and she re-activated the tracker, after first scanning through the entire system. Nathalie raised her eyebrows: everything had been wiped, including his photos and other personal data. He’d barely reloaded all of his apps, too, but most of his contacts appeared to be back. She dispassionately scanned the text messages and didn’t see anything worth noting. Less than thirty minutes later, she’d quietly returned the phone to the room, where Adrien was still sleeping. 

Nathalie stared at her computer screen, watching the red dot that was Adrien as it worked its way toward the school; there was a marginal timing delay on the GPS tracker, so it tended to hop from one set of coordinates to another when it refreshed. But importantly, Adrien was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

Could she have been wrong?

She tapped her blotter and brought up the photos she’d been working on, then focused on the side-by-side shot of the two rings. It seemed so conclusive. But maybe it wasn’t.

On a hunch, she speed-dialed Adrien.

“Nathalie?” he answered. There was traffic noise in the background, which confirmed he was just across the street from the school.

“Adrien.” She paused, noting the dot was not moving while he spoke. “I just found your note. Are you sure you don’t want me to send the car?”

“No, I’m good,” he said, the wind picking up slightly in the background. “I’ll be at school all day for the event, but I can text for a pickup later?”

“All right,” she replied.

“Uh, we might go for ice cream after, if that is okay,” he said with a hopeful tone.

She smiled. “Of course, Adrien. I’ll inform your Father.”

“Thanks, Nathalie!” he said, happily as he hung up.

The dot on her screen landed on the location for the school. For all the world, he sounded like a happy teenager – nothing more. 

Why didn’t she believe it?

Reluctantly, she stood and started back for the aerie.

* * *

## Chat Noir

I was nearly to the school when my phone – my _real_ phone – buzzed. It was a strange experience, and I was vaulting across an alley when it happened. I unzipped my pocket and answered it as I landed and continued across the roof at a trot.

“Nathalie?” I said, pausing at the edge. I could see the school directly across the street, and traffic was moving below me. I suddenly wondered how accurate her tracking software was – could it tell I was high above the sidewalk “Adrien” was supposed to be walking on?

_Too late to worry about that now._

“Adrien. I just found your note – are you sure you don’t want me to send the car?”

“No, I’m good,” I said as I went conservative and used the baton to carefully vault out over the street, using the gentle arc to drop onto the roof of the school. “I’ll be at school all day for the event, but can I text you for a pickup later?”

“All right,” I heard her reply. Behind me, Ladybug quietly dropped in, careful not to make a sound.

I looked at her with a grand Chat smile. “Uh, we might go for ice cream after – if that is okay?” Ladybug was trying not to laugh.

“Of course, Adrien,” Nathalie said. “I’ll inform your father.”

“Thanks, Nathalie!” I replied, happily, and hung up, sliding the phone back into my costume pocket. I motioned to Ladybug. “We’ve got to get down there so she thinks Adrien has arrived.”

“All right,” she said, raising an eyebrow but holding her question. “We can set down in the corner over there.”

I scampered across the roof behind her and followed her with a neat tuck-tumble combination, ignoring how gracefully she slid down the yo-yo. She’d picked the corner of the courtyard we’d sometimes used for emergency transformations; it was below the stairs and just out of line of sight of all of the classrooms and office spaces.

“I think Nathalie was able to reload the tracking software on my phone this morning,” I said without preamble. “I was dead to the world this morning; she could have easily retrieved it and replaced it before I’d realized it.”

She nodded approvingly. “Smart keeping it active, Chat,” she said. 

“I’m learning,” I smiled briefly. “I stumbled on both good and bad news since I last talked to you.”

“Go on,” she prompted.

I quickly sketched in my discovery of the laundry chute and a possibly safe egress from the mansion, followed by the photos I’d seen on Nathalie’s desk. The latter drew a frown from Ladybug, and a glance to where her ladybug ring had been.

“You had to take it off, then,” she said. I thought I could hear a trace of sadness.

“Actually, no,” I said. “Turns out, I have more control over this costume than I realized. It’s still there, I’m just choosing not to show it.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Neat.”

“Thanks. You can teach a young cat new tricks, it seems,” I winked. “Now, let me tell you why I called this meeting…”

“This is a meeting?” Ladybug laughed. “You had some odd business practices, Chat. At least you could have brought coffee.”

“I used to,” I said, frowning. “Did you forget –”

“No,” she said, bending around the corner and producing a drink carrier from her Bakery. “I didn’t.”

* * *

## Ladybug

Chat’s eyes widened as he saw the coffee cups appear, and not with excitement. In my desire to patch up things, I’d brought along the usual morning joe that, until recently, had been his nectar of life; I’d also managed to immediately remind him of the _last_ time I’d proactively provided coffee. 

His normally ebullient smile that appeared when around me faded just a bit. “Uh, Milady…” he said haplessly. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he started, seemingly torn between hurting my feelings and, possibly, defending himself. “But I’m not quite ready to accept that particular treat from you yet.”

“Oh, Chat!” I replied. “I’m sorry – of course, I understand,” I said, putting the drink carrier back on the tile and picking up Option B. “How about a Belgian chocolate croissant instead?”

Still, he hesitated – despite them being a longtime favorite.

And only then did the full impact of what I had done to him _finally_ register. I looked down at the deceptively harmless pastries I’d actually baked by hand earlier that morning, and tried to see them from his eyes, with that lingering doubt that I had a hidden agenda. I looked up at him, tears starting to well up. “My God, Chat,” I said, dropping the plate and throwing my arms around him. “What _have_ I done?”

He thankfully returned the embrace. “What you thought you had to do,” he said, his voice odd. “What you always do. Try to turn the odds in our favor.”

Chat used a gentle claw tip to turn my chin upward, and gave me a brief but wonderful kiss. “I’ll get there, LB. I still love you with all of my heart; there’s just a tiny part of me that doesn’t trust as easily as it once did.”

I felt him look over my shoulder at the coffee. “It’s so stupid,” he said sadly.

I pushed back and looked deeply into his wide, green eyes. “No,” I said firmly. “You have every right to feel betrayed. It happened. I’m not proud that I did what I did, but you’re right. At the time I thought it was the best move.” I snuggled back into his chest. “My bad,” I said simply, going for humor.

To his credit, I felt him chuckling. “I can’t stay mad at you, bugaboo,” he said warmly. “Now hand me that damn coffee. It smells too good to let it go to waste.”

I carefully handed him his black, and started to sip on my café latte (double chocolate). I saw him raise an eyebrow, clearly smelling the insane amount of chocolate I’d added, but per usual passed on commenting.

Like a diver going off the ten meter for the first time, Chat took a decisive sip from his coffee, eyes closing in bliss. My father’s roast was known throughout the city, and Chat was a huge fan.

“Now,” he said. “I think I need to ask Max a favor.” He sipped again, trying to suppress his look of shock that I hadn’t tried to poison him again. “And then I have some thoughts about how we can use Hawkmoth’s perceived knowledge about me against him.”

“Go on,” I said, intrigued.

* * *

## Chat Noir

When Ladybug didn’t immediately shoot me down, I started to think I might have been on to something. It was simple, really: my idea was to turn the expectations slightly. Hawkmoth would undoubtedly want to create a situation at the Louvre while the entire school was there that would draw in Ladybug and Chat Noir; having that many people in danger would be a situation we wouldn’t ignore. 

Leaning into his suspicion that I was moonlighting as Chat Noir, I suggested that we go for over the top. “He’s going to want to put us in a situation where I go in as Adrien, but have to transform into Chat Noir, and do it in such a way that confirms his suspicions. That leaves me with a couple of options. One, Adrien _and_ Chat Noir both go to the Louvre…”

“Rena?”

“Maybe,” I said, “but we’ve done that a few times now. I think we run the risk of being blown this time out.”

“Good point.”

“We might be able to pull it off with some practical Hollywood tricks, though,” I said. “I still have the Chat Noir outfit from the music video, and Wayhem can look a lot like Adrien from a distance.”

She nodded. “Ok.”

“Next option: Chat Noir goes instead of Adrien. This has the benefit of guaranteeing Hawkmoth that one of us will be there for sure. We work it out with our teacher, maybe with the context that there is a security issue of some sort, and then we avoid the whole catch-change-to-Chat issue.” I smiled wider. “Plus, I get to hang out with Marinette as Chat Noir again.”

“But where does Adrien wind up? He has to have a reason to _not_ be there.”

I smiled. “Photo shoot,” I said simply. “I’ll figure out some way to ensure that the redo from the disaster happens that day or the next, so Father will force me to stay home.”

She was still nodding. “How do you get away?”

“Max comes in there,” I said, eyes gleaming.

“All right, so far I like that one better. You have a third option?”

“Combination of one and two,” I said.

Slowly, a thoughtful smile started to spread across Ladybug’s face. “I see potential,” she replied. “You need me for Max?”

“No,” I said. “I can do this part myself. But you’re going to have to cover for Adrien. Oh,” I said, unzipping my pocket and handing her my real phone, “keep this on you for a bit. I’m nearly certain Nathalie is pinging it constantly now; we’ll at least give her something to watch on that tablet of hers.”

Ladybug laughed as she took the phone. “Don’t dally, kitty,” she said. “We need your mad coding skills out there.”

“These claws can code too,” I said, feigning hurt. “Maybe Chat—”

“No,” she said firmly, running that delightful finger along my mask edge. “It might be better, kitty, that you keep a slightly lower profile for a bit.”

“Milady, that would be _cat_ astrophic for my fans,” I said, with mock seriousness.

“Get going, kitty,” she said as she pressed further into the dark corner and dropped her transformation.

I laughed and leapt up to the mezzanine and skulked around the upper level, trying to get my bearings. I quickly located where my group was working, and deftly leapt over the railing to land quietly next to the folding table. “Can a cat get in on this action?” I asked, casually leaning an arm against the edge of the table.

Nino, Alya, Max and a breathless Marinette all turned my way. “Chat!” Nino said, in that fuzzy way he’d had all week. This time, he was focusing in on the longer blonde hair I had as Chat, trying to place a different face under the mask.

I decided to short circuit it and turned to Max, who appeared to have been in mid construction on a robot arm. “Max, right?” I asked sociably.

He nodded.

“I have a particular problem, and I think you are the best man for the job.” I turned on the Chat charm. “Interested in being an honorary superhero?”

“Sure,” he said. 

I wrapped an arm around him and said to the table, “I’ll have him back in a jiffy,” as we walked together to a spot under the basketball hoop. Once we were sufficiently out of earshot, I pitched him my plan, without giving him the specifics.

“I have access to a compromised computer,” I began, “and I need to fake out the people monitoring it to make them think it’s actually being used, when, in fact, no one is going to be there. And I need to back it up by faking out certain… monitoring devices, that the user in question will be busily toiling away at said computer.”

“Okay,” he said, thoughtfully. “Chat, you’re not asking me to do something illegal, are you?”

“No,” I said with non-Chat seriousness. “This is actually a life-or-death situation I am dealing with.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll need the ability to insert video and audio of the person in question after I receive the code, possibly remotely,” I said. “You’ll understand why I can’t reveal who I am protecting.”

“Yes,” he said.

“And, hypothetically, I might need to access and reprogram security cameras, too,” I added, watching his expression.

“No brainer,” he said. “What OS?”

“Uh…” I had to think about that. I had no idea what the baton was running. VM Plagg? Windows, Plagg Edition? Plagg MacOS? Then it dawned on me. I pulled my baton out and on a lark, twisted it the opposite direction from the one I used when I needed my earwig. The bottom snapped open, and a small USB drive popped into my claw, replete with my classy green paw insignia.

I upended the baton, and son of a gun, there was now a USB slot there. 

_I love you, Plagg._

“Whatever is on this,” I said, as I handed the flash drive to Max. “How long do you need?”

“I can get it done today,” he said, turning the drive over in his hand. “How will I get it back to you?”

“Uh…” I had no idea how to answer. Other than Ladybug, the general public never needed to reach me. I looked at the USB drive again, which had a button I’d not seen before. “Press that,” I said with confidence. “And then I’ll find you.”

“Got it,” he said.

“Thanks, Max,” I said appreciatively.

I left him there and leapt out through the open courtyard roof, circled around to the side alley and dropped down, feeling reasonably confident that we might be able to get through whatever it was that Hawkmoth had to be planning. And I seemed to be making progress with Ladybug, too, although taking that coffee from her had been a huge test for me. 

So far, I was still standing.

“Plagg –” I started to say, intending to drop my transformation and finally join the activities inside as Adrien. I paused at the last minute, suddenly wondering what was going to happen to that little USB stick, thinking it might have a reasonable chance of evaporating in Max’s hand as I de-transformed. I slid my baton out and started to scroll through the help system again, hoping Plagg had updated the manual for me.

The wall to the school exploded just twenty meters behind me in a shower of concrete and dust; the concussion rolled me sideways and I landed into a pounce-crouch facing what was left of the wall. Out of the dust, a massive robot looking very much like the one from _Forbidden Planet_ rolled over the debris, carrying Marinette in one of its arms.

No shrinking violet, Marinette was pounding away at her captor, but not making any headway. Both of them turned down the alleyway, and it picked up an impressive amount of speed in short order, zipping away from me in the space of a few heartbeats.

“This is going to inter _fur_ with my coding time!” I yelled at the receding tin can as I started to bound after it.

It was looking like I was going to get my wish to remain as Chat Noir for just a bit longer.


	10. Not STEAMed

## Marinette

I’d gotten back to the work table just as Chat had arrived to talk with Max, and watched him walk him to the corner for his quick cat-chat. It looked like it had gone well enough, as I watched Chat hand him something to store the code he was going to need for that part of his plan.

As Chat bounded away and Max returned to us, I pondered what we were cooking up. His plan wasn’t all bad, actually, but I thought we could tighten it up a bit. Once I got home, I’d whiteboard it out.

I didn’t get much further as my eyes caught the telltale flight of a purple akuma as it fluttered down into the courtyard. I was torn between dashing away to transform versus hanging long enough to see who the unlucky victim was. I didn’t have long to wait – it took a direct route toward the leader for the day, Monsieur St. Germaine. It wasn’t immediately obvious why he’d become the latest victim, but I was sure I’d find out fairly quickly. 

I started to circle away and toward a quieter area of the space to transform, watching as the akuma sunk into the iPad he was carrying, creating the purple wave of transformation. That alone started the panic in the room, and as students started dashing for the exits, I changed tactics and slowed down to try and govern the process a bit as Marinette.

“This way!” I waved, redirecting students toward a lesser used exit than the more obvious front doors. “Stay calm, stay together. Make sure you stay together!” 

I ran along the line that started and kept everyone moving, intermittently trying to keep an eye over my shoulder to monitor the akuma. Impressively, he’d become a robot straight out of the classic science fiction Chat loved. I turned back, and saw that most of the students had successfully escaped save for a few stragglers.

“Hurry,” I encouraged. “Get as far away from the building--- _urp_!”

Just as the last of the students made it out, the robot had caught up with me and plucked me off my feet with one of its outlandishly eccentric accordion-like arms. I wriggled to try and escape and was rewarded by it squeezing me like I was a chew toy.

“Ooof,” I said somewhat classlessly. “What… what do you want?” I asked, trying to catch the breath that had been pressed out of me.

The robot remained silent and turned on its halftracks, moving quickly toward the sidewall of the school. Fast enough that I put my hands up to brace for impact. At nearly the last minute, a grey-blue beam of energy shot from an emitter that had been rotating atop its clear dome of a head, blasting a massive hole in the wall.

It didn’t wait for the dust to settle and simply rolled over the debris and into the side alley.

As we turned, I started pounded on the arm once more; it was clear I wasn’t making much progress, but it was making me feel better. Over the shoulder of the robot, I thought I’d seen Chat, but I couldn’t be sure; the dust from what was left of the wall was fairly thick, making it hard to both breath and see. 

At speeds I was amazed to feel, we started moving down the alley and away from the school. Toward what, I wasn’t sure. I tried to twist around a bit to see more of my captor, and managed to move enough to see that there were some technical looking controls conveniently accessible on what would have been his chest. Multiple buttons were flashing randomly, and one small display showed something like a battery indicator, which was currently at ninety percent.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I could do with any of that information at the moment, but filed it away.

We turned another corner and entered a major thoroughfare against traffic. Deftly, the robot weaved around the oncoming vehicles; on one swerve, I was able to spy a certain black-cladded hero working his way alongside us. As fast as Chat was capable of moving, the robot seemed able to move faster. That was a bit troubling.

The thoroughfare opened as we approached the broad plaza leading toward the Eiffel Tower, causing me to groan inwardly. It had been a few weeks since any of Hawkmoth’s akumatized victims had chosen that particular landmark, so it figured we were heading there now. It was hard to know quite yet what Mr. Robot had in mind, but with the radio antennae I’d seen atop its dome, I had to assume the worst.

I heard a metallic _clink_ up and behind me, and turned as much as I could to find Chat had managed to land atop the ovoid clear dome. His claws had sunk deep into the plexiglass, causing it to spiderweb; it didn’t seem to slow Mr. Robot in the least. “There’d better be tuna inside this tin can, Princess, or I’m gonna be pretty upset,” he said. For once, he was breathing pretty heavily, telling me he’d had to push hard to catch up to the machine.

“I’m not in a position to tell you,” I said. “One way to find out.”

Mr. Robot increased speed again, swerving wildly to try and shake Chat; though his tail was flailing in the wind, and his ears were lowered against the velocity, he held firm. “Tell me there is something technical down there,” he yelled against the wind.

“Lots of flashing buttons,” I confirmed, twisting around again to look at what must have been a control center. “And a battery indicator.”

Chat’s ears perked up. “Battery?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “It’s down to eighty-five percent and dropping pretty fast.”

Chat pulled back slightly. “We need to make it expend more energy,” he said. “It’ll have to find a place to recharge and that might give us a chance to pop you out.”

“Watch out!” I said quickly, seeing the beam emitter that had blasted the wall start to swivel around toward Chat. He quickly flipped to the top of the dome, sinking his claws back in and creating further cracks in the plastic. 

“Beams me why you’d want to use this,” he said, as he pulled back a fist and then smashed it into the emitter, sending it sailing off and into the street.

Mr. Robot swerved suddenly as Chat was rearing back to strike another blow; he only had a single set of claws in the plexiglass and they made a horrific squealing noise as the force of the turn pushed him around toward me. He frantically tried to reclaim purchase with the other paw but was out of position completely, hand flailing in empty space.

The other arm took that opportunity to snag him across the torso, wrapping him tightly in the same embrace I was experiencing and dragging him down and off the clear dome. It had pinned his free hand to his side, but he managed to keep the one that had scratched long grooves in the dome free. Somewhat chagrined, he turned toward me, wincing as the arm tightened against his movements. “Should’ve seen that coming,” he said, voice nearly lost in the wind as we continued our pell-mell velocity. “Any ideas?”

“Not yet,” I said. “I think we’re headed for the Tower, but I can’t figure out why. If you are right and it will have to recharge, that is not a likely destination to find a place to plug in.”

“What --- arrgh, that’s tight --- what did it do to the students?”

That stopped me. “Nothing,” I said. “Short of chasing them, the only thing it did was come after me.”

Chat raised a masked eyebrow. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“This is not good,” he said. “Did you, uh, leave my phone back at school by any chance?”

I frowned at him. “You’re worried about your phone? Chat ---”

“ _Did you leave my phone at school_?” he practically yelled at me, ears flattening. “This is important!”

“Yes, dammit,” I yelled back. “Why?”

“It’s a test,” he said. “If Chat is here –”

 _Merde_. “They’re gonna see if Adrien is still at the school. Especially if your phone is still _there_.”

“I might have another problem, Milady,” he yelled. “I gave Max a USB drive from my baton. I’m not sure what will happen to it if I de-transform before he gets it back to me.”

“One problem at a time, kitty,” I said. “Although I suppose that rules out Cataclysm for a bit.”

He nodded, but a small gleam appeared in his eye. “I have an idea,” he said, and reached around for his baton with his free hand. He was turning it around as he said: “There’s a new feature on here – ow, dammit!”

The complex of circuitry I’d observed early had cleanly irised open, and a set of smaller utility arms had shot out, roughly clamping down on Chat’s free wrist. I watched him struggle against the increasing force, the pain evident on his face. “I can’t… hold on…” he said between grimaces. “Can you… catch it?!”

I was facing mostly away from him and the now opening, and judged I was far enough out of reach of the arms. “Yes! Toss it forward!”

Despite his restricted wrist, he managed to flick the baton out hard enough to counteract the speed of our movement; it flipped end-for-end through the air toward me, allowing me to grab it and swiveled as far as I could away from the now seeking set of secondary arms. “Got it!”

“Third problem!” Chat yelled. I turned and saw what he was indicating. A separate utility arm had appeared, this one with a special claw-like appendage, perfectly shaped for grasping. It was moving deliberately toward his now manacled ring hand.

“What do I do?” I cried.

“Point that end—” he used his chin to indicate the base “—anywhere at the torso,” he yelled back, grimacing as both arms tightened around him. “Then hit the right and third paw prints, plus the center pad.”

“What will it do?” I asked as I rotated and tried to fit my fingers across the pads as he’d indicated. I was more comfortable with my yo-yo, and it took a bit to align my fingers.

“Electromagnetic pulse,” he yelled. “Hurry!”

I pressed the lit buttons on the pawprint. The baton chirped happily, and Mister Robot came to a complete and sudden stop; if we hadn’t been held by the machine, we’d have been thrown several hundred feet forward. As it was, the whiplash had been significant, and my world was spinning.

Chat pried himself out of the now somnambulant robot’s arms and gracefully dropped to the ground in his cat-crouch, then stood and carefully prized me out of the other arm, catching me in his as I dropped. Being Chat, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to plant a kiss on me before righting me to stand beside him.

“Thank you, kitty,” I said.

“My pleasure, Purrincess,” he smiled. “Although you were taking _fur_ ever to fire that pulse. I’m going to have to have some remedial baton lessons with you.”

I rolled my eyes. “How long will this last?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe less. You’ll need to change so we can take care of this.”

We were plopped in the middle of the roadway still, with cars veering around the stopped robot. I scanned and there was literally no cover for me to duck into. “That might be a bit of an issue,” I said.

I turned back to Chat, smiling slightly. “You, however, are already transformed…” I started, as I reached for my earrings.

His eyes widened. “Oh, _hell_ ,” he said. 

“Quit mewling and spin up your baton so no one can see this,” I said as I unfastened one, and then the other. I’d apparently loaned him my Miraculous once before; I knew he’d been forced to use it in order to save me at the time, but I’d not seen any of it. My mouth quirked a bit.

Chat raised a masked eyebrow but turned his back to me, and just to be safe, extended his baton slightly to increase the size of his shield, then promptly began spinning it. Per usual, it created a blur of motion – hopefully enough to mask my actions.

Carefully, I reached up and brushed back his massive Chat mane to locate the first ear, clicking in one earring, then repeated the process on the other. He grumbled the entire time, which I suddenly recalled had been his reaction the last time, too.

“Done.” I stepped back and Chat stopped spinning. He turned toward me, glaring.

* * *

## Chat Noir

This was the second occasion Ladybug had made me take her Miraculous and I wasn’t any happier this time around. I narrowed my masked green eyes at her but held my tongue. She was right, of course; the traffic weaving around us prevented Marinette from dashing to safety to transform; having me do it solved two problems at once.

I sighed. “Tikki – spots on!”

The red transformation wave washed over me and as it faded, I was rewarded with my stylized cat-bug costume that had appeared before. I heard Marinette gasp slightly, and I glared at her again.

“You didn’t expect me to wear that red-and-black number of yours, did you?” I asked.

“Actually, I did,” she said.

“Tikki must have told you the costume is what you want most,” I reminded her.

“Actually,” Marinette repeated, “she didn’t.”

“Interesting.” I turned back to the robot. “Where is the akuma?”

“I saw it go into his iPad back at the school, but I don’t see it here.”

I scanned the body of the robot. The control panel was still irised open, and seemed like the most logical place to start looking. Weaving around Marinette, I hopped up onto one of the motionless arms and carefully reached a paw inside and felt around, ultimately locating a squarish item. I tried to yank it back out, but it was connected to a ton of thin cables. “I think I’ve got it,” I said, “but it’s the heart of the machine. I can’t budge it.”

Marinette peered around me as best as she could from below. “That space looks too small for a yo-yo attack,” she said. “Baton?”

“Baton.”

I adjusted the length of my baton slightly, then fished it into the space, breathed, and smashed it down on top of the square I’d found. I was rewarded with a crystalline _crunch_ , and the appearance of a purple akuma at the opening.

“Time to de-evilize!” I cried as I unzipped the yo-yo and sagged the akuma in a single smooth move. “No more evil doing for you.”

“Not bad, Chat,” Marinette said appreciatively. 

“Do you ever get tired of saying that?” I asked, completely interrupting my carefully choreographed moment.

“No,” she replied. “Now finish, kitty.”

I released the butterfly and called out, “Miraculous Ladybug!” 

Ladybug’s little helpers swarmed over the city and in short order Monsieur St. Germaine was on his hands and knees in front of us. Quickly I wrapped an arm around him, pulling him to his feet; I wrapped the other around Marinette, and leapt across the weaving traffic to the relative safety of the far sidewalk. We landed as a trio, and I eased St. Germaine onto a park bench.

“Chat… Noir?” he said, more confused than they normally were. “You look… different.”

“Trying out a new _cat_ stume,” I said as I leaned toward him. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” he said, shakily.

I waited. This was normally where they told us what had gone wrong in their life that Hawkmoth had cashed in on.

Monsieur St. Germaine instead smiled awkwardly and stared at me. “Uh,” he said at length, “why am I not at the school?”

“You were akumatized,” I explained, and I tried to prompt him a bit. “So, Monsieur, why exactly were you upset?”

“Upset?” he repeated. “I wasn’t upset at all. Why do you ask?”

I passed a look to Marinette, who was frowning with concern, then turned back. “Normally Hawkmoth picks his victims when they are under emotional stress,” I explained. “Are you sure you weren’t upset about anything?”

St. Germaine pondered that for a moment. “Well, I guess I was a little perturbed that we didn’t have as many girls at the STEAM event as I had hoped. There’s a definite lack of representation in tech these days, and we’ve tried hard to make it appealing—”

“I see,” I said, trying to short circuit what looked to be a long explanation. Marinette caught my expression and started to flag down a taxicab for our victim. “Look, why don’t you head home? You’ll need to recover from this attack.”

“All right,” he said as a black vehicle swiftly appeared. I opened the door for him. “Thanks, Chat.”

I closed the door and waved a paw at the receding vehicle, then turned to Marinette. “Are you as concerned as I am?”

“Yes,” she said as my earrings chirped. She held out her hand. 

“Tikki – spots off.”

The bug de-transformation washed over me, returning me to Normal Chat (if there was such a thing). Marinette reached up and snapped out the earrings from my ears as Tikki quickly fluttered back to her purse, and then re-inserted them into her own ears. Only then did I breathe a bit easier.

“I think my original concern is valid,” I said as Marinette made sure TIkki had found the macaroon in her purse. “This was a ploy to get us away from the school.”

“Let’s get back then,” she said, and jumped into my arms.

“Whoa Nelly,” I exclaimed. “You don’t normally do _that_.”

“I know,” she said. “Just making up for lost time.”

Smiling widely, I sprung up to the first roof I could get to, then ran as fast as I could safely run with my precious package. “Where did you leave my phone?”

“Team worktable,” she said as we leapt across an alleyway.

“I’m going to come around from the back, and peer into the front,” I said as we neared the school. “If I see the car, I’ll know we’re busted.”

“Not so fast,” she smiled as we landed on the roof of the school. “I think we have a reasonable explanation that might pass muster.”

I let her out of my arms and we snuck to the edge of the façade. Sure enough, the sedan was parked at the bottom of the stairs. Whether Father had come, or if it was simply Gorilla, I’d know as soon as we went down. I turned back to Marinette. “And what would that explanation be, since it looks like we’ll need that now?”

“We followed evacuation protocol,” Marinette said. “Everyone left their belongings behind when the filed out of the school.” She pointed to the courtyard. “Ergo, you left your cellphone with your bookbag.”

I frowned. “Uh, small problem,” I groaned. 

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You transformed while wearing your backpack, didn’t you?”

I hung my head. “Yeah. As much as I wanted to stay in character today, I did assume I’d be Adrien at some point.”

“Maybe we can get an answer on that,” Marinette said thoughtfully as she clicked open her purse. Tikki floated out. “Tikki, Chat gave Max a gizmo—”

“Technically, it was a USB flash drive,” I corrected.

“—that came out of the baton. If he drops his transformation, what happens to it?”

The cute pink kwami frowned. “Plagg has been upgrading again, has he?” she asked, looking at me pointedly. “I hate it when he does that.” She turned back to Marinette. “It’s part of the same magic governing your transformation,” she explained. “It will cease to exist if you revert to your normal form.”

“All right,” I said. “Not that I mind being Chat, of course---”

“You’re secretly loving this,” Marinette said, smiling.

“—but that does put a crimp in my plans to appear as Adrien.” I paused and moved over to the edge that rimmed the courtyard, looking down at the tables waiting for the students to return. “We might be able to buy a few minutes,” I said, turning back to Marinette. “Can you intercept whoever is here from the mansion? Distract them long enough for me to grab the phone and do the classic bathroom dodge.”

She nodded. “Tikki – spots on!”

I leapt over the roof as the red transformation washed over Marinette, landing softly next to our team table. The courtyard appeared clear, but my ears alerted me that I was not necessarily alone. I thought better of grabbing the phone that was beckoning to me from the table and instead circled the table, then expanded to circle the room in widening arcs. I had a hunch who was watching me from the shadows.

“Adrien?” I called out. “Are you here?”

I continued to circle, ears now definitely picking up someone breathing in the far corner of the space. I couldn’t scent who it was, which was due more to the vagaries of the air currents in the courtyard. 

“Adrien?”

I made it to the interior wall, and carefully took out my baton as I complete the last circuit. Whoever it was, they were under the stairwell I’d used in the past to transform. And they were wearing an expensive Gabriel perfume.

_Nathalie._

I clicked into my baton’s phone function, and speed dialed Ladybug. “My Ladybug,” I said when she appeared on my screen. She frowned, recognizing the code we’d established for when we thought were being monitored. “I’ve cleared the courtyard, no sign of the one student that appears to be unaccounted for – Adrien Agreste. Any luck on your side?”

“No, Noir,” she replied, responding with our code for _I understand. How bad?_

“Not sure what this means,” I said, answering both questions. “I’ll expand the search; perhaps he took cover in another area of the building.”

“Copy that.” She looked worried. “Might be faster to go to comms at this point,” she suggested.

“On it,” I said as I clicked off. I then twisted the baton and dropped my earwig into my hand, placed it into my human ear and said: “Online.”

“Gotcha kitty. Who is it?”

“Not who I thought,” I said quietly. Then, more loudly: “Heading to the restroom.”

“Copy that. Be careful, Chat. I’ve not run into Gorilla, suspect he’s in the building. I’ll monitor from the roof.”

“Roger dodger,” I said, smiling despite myself.

“Seriously?” I heard through the earwig. 

“Gotta love me,” I breathed, smiling even wider.


	11. Bob and Weave

## Chat Noir

I crept through the courtyard, knowing Nathalie was following my progress and assuming that Gorilla was bound to make an appearance at any moment. But I made it to the men’s restroom and pulled open the door, slowly, and peered into the darkened space. It was empty, as I’d expected, and I slid through the door and closed it behind me.

Quickly, before I could be interrupted, I pulled out my baton and punched up the voice recorder, saving a series of snippets; then, hoping beyond hope that Plagg had done another instant upgrade, I flicked through the tools menu on the baton.

_Bingo!_

I twisted the top of the baton and removed a thin slice, flipped it over and found a speaker grill. Leaping quickly to the far toilet stall, I closed the door and locked it, then flung the device against the metal wall, allowing the magnet to adhere. I’d barely leapt out of the stall and had landed against the sinks when the door opened and Gorilla started to walk in.

“…glad I found you,” I faked as if I was in mid-sentence, carefully palming my baton, but keeping a finger on the pawprint. “Are you feeling better?”

I turned toward Gorilla. “Adrien appears to be under the weather,” I explained as I triggered the baton.

“Sort of,” I heard myself say from the stall. “I, uh, seem to have eaten something that didn’t agree with me…”

“Luckily, you missed all of the action,” I said. “You were missed in the final headcount.”

“What happened?” my voice said.

“Akuma,” I said simply, nodding knowingly at Gorilla. “But Ladybug and I cleared it.”

“Thank goodness,” I said. “I’ll be done shortly.”

“I believe STEAM Saturday will continue in a bit, if you want to stay.”

“I do! I do!” my voice accidentally said twice, since I pushed the button wrong.

It didn’t matter; Gorilla seemed convinced and retreated from the bathroom.

“Interesting dodge,” Ladybug said in my ear.

“More like desperation,” I said as I entered the stall again and removed my speaker. It happily clicked back onto the top of my baton. “Are we clear?”

“Almost. Gorilla is crossing the courtyard now. Let me see..” I heard wind as she leapt to the façade. “Yeah, secretary from Hell is waiting by the sedan. Seems to have worked; here comes Gorilla.”

“I won’t breathe easy until they drive away,” I said as I skulked to the door, cracking it open. As I’d anticipated, students had started to filter back to continue the planned events of the day.

“Sedan is away,” Ladybug said in my ear. “I’m going to drop my transformation and return to the group. Someone has to explain why Adrien is missing,” she added.

“Let me,” I said suddenly. “That way I can fill in for him and do the work I was supposed to do.”

I heard her sigh, audibly. “I suppose that’s the only option, at least until Max can finish his work for you.” She paused. “Keep the puns to a minimum, would you?”

“Furr you, anything milady.”

“That is _exactly_ what I’m afraid of,” she laughed. “See you below.”

I pulled the earwig out and replaced it in the baton, then decided to slip out the bathroom window and re-enter the courtyard from the roof. I waited up there until I saw Marinette return to our group, and then deftly dropped down beside her. 

“Purrincess,” I said. “Looks like I will be standing in for you friend, Adrien.”

“Really?” she said, playing to Nino, Alya and Max. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s under the weather, and decided to head back home,” I said conversationally. My eyes fell on my real phone, sitting just to the side of where Marinette was working. I shot a quick glance at her and started around the table, headed for where I would have been working had I been Adrien . “What was your friend working on? Maybe I can assist,” I offered, intentionally drawing the attention of the others and allowing Marinette to surreptitiously slide the phone into her purse

Max looked at me appraisingly. “He was writing code on that tablet; I’m not sure you’d—”

I picked the tablet up in my paws. “Ah, looks like a simple laser/radar interface that ties into an online mapping API,” I said. “And in Objective C,” I smiled, as I looked up at Marinette. “You _do_ know what the ‘C’ stands for, right?”

She peremptorily did a facepalm. “No, Chat,” she muttered. “Pray tell, what does the ‘C’ in Objective C stand for?”

_The wind up! The pitch!_

“Cat of course,” I purred. “Lucky for you, I happen to be an expert.”

There were groans around the table. 

_Home run!_

* * *

By the end of the afternoon, we’d cobbled together a working prototype of our robot. I’d managed to write relatively _bug_ -free code (Marinette smacked me when I mentioned that out loud), resulting in our robot only veering wildly into a single cone during out initial testing. The akuma attack had disrupted our schedule, though, so we wound up having to pack up everything before getting a final run through on the course.

As we finished, Max stepped over to me and handed back the USB stick. “There you go,” he said.

I raised both masked eyebrows. “You’re finished? _Already_?”

“Yeah,” he said shyly. “I actually completed it while we were evacuated during the attack. I should have returned it to you earlier, but you wound up being a big help getting the robot completed.”

“Thanks,” I said, “for both the USB and the compliment. Coming from you, that means a lot.”

He looked at me oddly, and I realized what I’d just said might have been out of character for Chat. “You’re welcome, Chat. The instructions are on a PDF on the root.” He paused. “Be careful, Chat,” he said simply. “I have a sense you are going up against a formidable opponent. I won’t quote you the odds other than to say they are… steep.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Max,” I smiled at him, knowing, however, he was correct.

Using the new keystroke that Tikki had taught me, I popped open the storage compartment in my baton and carefully stowed the USB drive, then walked out with Marinette. We lingered on the steps of the school. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some ice cream.”

Marinette laughed. “I could use some myself,” she agreed. “Why don’t you zip to that alleyway over there and drop your transformation? I’ll meet you around the back and we can find out where Glaciator is stationed today.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think Andre likes going by that name,” I said. 

“I know,” she agreed. “But I think of that giant snow cone every time I’m there now.”

I laughed. “Sounds like a plan. Plagg has got to be rather irritated with me,” I added. “I’ve been Chat more than Ad—”

“ _Hey_ , Alya,” Marinette said loudly, preventing an inadvertant reveal. Her best friend had brusquely burst through the front doors of the school, trailed by Nino; the duo had stumbled directly into what I thought was a private conversation.

“Mari,” she said, looking at me thoughtfully. “Chat.” Her eyes bounced between us. “What’s going on between the two of you?” she asked, bluntly.

Marinette frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she said, managing to sound a bit confused. “Chat was just seeing me out, nothing more than that.”

“ _I_ think,” Alya said slowly, looking deliberately at me, “I should know what’s going on between the two of you. Or that I did.”

Marinette looked at me. “You’re not making a lot of sense, Alya.”

“No,” she said. “And I’ve been like that for days now. Nino has been having the same trouble; he keeps looking at Adrien and telling me he’s –”

“You know what?” I said, realizing where this might be going and trying to extricate ourselves. “I really need to go. I’m meeting Ladybug later and I have a few things that need attending to before.” I turned to Marinette. “Do you need a lift, Princess?” I asked, meaningfully.

“Don’t you need to be somewhere, Chat,” she replied, Ladybug-esque.

“By your side, always,” I quipped, leaning close enough that Marinette was the only one to hear – and allowing her to surreptitiously slide my phone back into my costume pocket. “Sadly, yes,” I said, louder, as I pulled back. “Purrincess?”

“See you later, Chat,” Marinette said, pointedly referring to our patrol that evening.

I saluted the still flustered Alya and Nino and used my baton to vault away from the school. Once I was out of line of sight, I redirected back toward the mansion and started for home.

The ice cream would have to wait.

* * *

## Adrien

Three blocks from the mansion, I arced down and dropped into an alleyway, removed my real phone from the costume pocket where I’d stored it, and called out: “Plagg – claws in!”

The green transformation glow washed over me and my little kwami floated up to my eyeline. “About time, kid,” he said. “I haven’t been worked this hard since the holder I had back in ’76.”

I drew a blank. “1976? What was going on then?”

Tiny cat eyes crinkled in humor. “Try 1776,” he corrected. “I am never going back to Boston, if I can help it.”

My eyes widened. “There’s a story in there somewhere,” I said as I tossed him some of the super-premium Camembert I was using as an ongoing apology. 

“Maybe,” he said cryptically.

I rounded the final corner and Plagg resumed his usual spot under my button down as I pushed through the gates and walked slowly up the steps. Nathalie was waiting for me in her usual spot, tablet in hand. “You never texted for a pickup,” she said curtly.

“No,” I said. “A bunch of us were planning on going for ice cream, but wound up not going after all. It was just easier to walk at that point,” I said, sticking fairly close to the truth and knowing the data on her iPad would support almost all of it.

She nodded. “Dinner is ready when you are. Your father---”

“Won’t be joining me,” I completed. “I know the drill, Nathalie.”

“Actually, Adrien, he is waiting for you in the dining room.”

I felt my eyes widen. This was an unusual development. “My apologies,” I said as I redirected back down the staircase to my bedroom and over to the dining room.

I found Father sitting at the far end of the massive table, and settled in at my usual spot on the other end. “Father,” I said, carefully stowing my bookbag under the table.

“Adrien,” he acknowledged.

I was at a loss as to how to strike up any sort of conversation, and simply began to pick at my first course: it happened to be an onion soup. Fortunately, Father started.

“I know your class is scheduled to visit the Louvre on Friday,” he began. “Nathalie provided me with the permission slip.”

“Yes,” I said. “Everyone is going,” I added, trying to find a spot between eagerness and wariness for my voice.

“That could be a problem,” he said, and I immediately knew that one of my two options was about to get into play. “The soonest I could reschedule the photo shoot is Saturday, and I can’t have you out all night prior. I’m afraid you’ll need to stay home.”

The temperature in the room seemed to fall to subzero and a number of puzzle pieces fell into place.

My mind immediately went into Chat mode. This was no longer Father I was talking to. This was Hawkmoth, and he was neatly daring me to try and be in two places at once. On the one hand, that told me my efforts today had confused them enough that they needed another chance to flush me out.

On the other, the cold hard truth was hard to ignore. _He knows, or thinks he knows, that I am Chat._

I looked at Nathalie, and the expression on her face confirmed that she, too, appeared to be in on the secret. Fear, pure and simple, turned my blood cold. This was serious, and I was very much alone at the moment.

I turned back toward Father. “But Father,” I started, reverting to Adrien’s personality. “My entire class will be there! We’ve been looking forward to this for weeks now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pushing back from his untouched plate. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, and left with Nathalie in tow. He paused at the doorway. “Don’t forget your piano this evening, Adrien.”

_Clever. He’s also daring me to escape tonight, too._

“Of course, Father,” I said, munching thoughtfully on a baguette.

I needed to get out to see Ladybug, now more than ever. But did I dare risk it?

I stood and served myself some of the baked ham and potato souffle chef had prepared, sat, and picked at it while I ruminated. I was reasonably certain I could escape through the laundry chute, but Father’s emphasis on the piano practice inferred that he or Nathalie might do a spot check tonight; I’d need time to consider how to handle that properly. But asking Ladybug to come to the mansion was equally dangerous; with the monitoring in place, even if she snuck in via the clothes chute, we wouldn’t really be able to have a lengthy conversation without zapping all of the microphones…

_Hmm._

My feline-enhanced hearing might be able to pick up someone heading toward my bedroom, even from the basement. That would be worth a test; if I could, the laundry area might be safe. Or…

_What about the third floor? There are rooms up there we don’t use at all, and they are facing away from the two angles I normally exited when I’d blithely used the windows to escape as Chat._

I’d have to test those too. The key would be my ability to get back to the bedroom fast enough if someone decided to drop in unannounced. 

I pushed back from the table, hit the buffet one last time to score some extra cheese for Plagg, and then returned to my bedroom. It was still fairly early – too early for me to leave for patrol. On a hunch, I moved directly to the piano and flipped open the music I was currently working on. In theory, I was doing a concert performance the following month as part of Father’s latest fashion show; it was a public relations stunt, having the top model for House of Gabriel wearing the fall wardrobe while serenading the audience, and one that I’d prefer not to be doing. Not that I had any choice in the matter.

Father had selected Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé (2° Suite) for the piano, something normally done as a duet. It wasn’t a tough piece, but it required perfection, nonetheless. I’d mastered it weeks ago and was now simply building up muscle memory – especially since I wouldn’t be allowed sheet music at the actual performance. I started, and as the first few notes issued from the grand piano, Plagg floated close to my ear.

“This is not good,” he whispered below the music.

“I know,” I replied equally as quiet. “I can’t ignore it any longer. It’s hard to believe I could be in serious danger _from my own father_ ,” I added. “And if he is Hawkmoth, he’s intentionally put me into harm’s way on numerous occasions.”

“Obviously I can’t confirm one way or the other,” Plagg said, narrowing his eyes. “But I think your instinct on this is… accurate.”

I plunked the wrong chord and started the measure over again. “Do you think we can pull off escaping tonight? I am leaning toward scoping out the basement or the attic and having Ladybug come here,” I added, “but I’m worried that is just as dangerous.”

Plagg floated across my face and then back again; it was the closest he came to pacing, which he rarely did. I took note: when the God of Destruction is disturbed, the situation is not good. “Neither option is good,” he said at length, “but I’d recommend risking a departure. Ladybug’s capture at the mansion is not an option we should even contemplate.”

“All right,” I whispered. “I’ll---”

Plagg’s eyes widened and he poofed back into my shirt. A moment later, the door to my bedroom opened, and Nathalie entered. I continued playing as she stepped over to me.

She waited until I reached the end of the movement before speaking. “Adrien, your father wanted me to remind you that he will be in meetings with the China office all day tomorrow.”

I nodded, unsure what sort of response she was looking for.

“I presume you have schoolwork that needs to be caught up on?”

A thought struck me. “I do, Nathalie, and I’m going to have to meet with my group again tomorrow if that’s acceptable.”

She frowned. “Where and with whom?”

“The library,” I said on a whim. “Four of us total. Marinette, maybe Nino and Ayla, depending on whether their parts are done.”

“All right. What time?”

“Nine,” I said, “although it could be later. I can’t remember when the library actually opens. We thought we might grab coffee first.”

She nodded. “I’ll tell your father.” She paused, and for a moment, something close to affection passed across her face. “That sounds exceptional, Adrien,” she said softly. Then she turned and left.

I started the next movement as Plagg reappeared. “Nice, Adrien,” he said approvingly. 

“I’m learning,” I said. “Ready to sneak out?”

“You don’t think she’ll check again?”

“I’m counting on it.”


	12. Curveballs

## Ladybug

I waited at the rendezvous. Impatiently.

Chat was uncharacteristically late, which was making me nervous. I’d tried pinging his location on the Bug Phone but his paw print hadn’t appeared; I didn’t want to risk calling his real cell phone, so I’d started pacing instead. I was nearly ready to head toward the mansion when I heard the signature sound of his baton extending and retracting, followed by the soft _plunk_ of his rubberized boots landing on the tile beside me.

“Chat,” I said, turning, “what happened?”

“Father is Hawkmoth,” he said simply and succinctly. “He’s banned me from going to the Museum on Friday, and then quite literally dared me to try and leave the mansion this evening.” He paused. “I don’t think he knows for sure that I am Chat Noir, so he’s trying to set enough traps to gather the final evidence he needs.”

My eyes widened. On top of what I had inflicted on him, now he had to deal with his father being the supervillain we’d been sworn to take down. There was no scenario I could contemplate where this ended well. “Are you sure?” I asked softly, taking him into my arms.

“Reasonably,” he said, as he leaned into the hug. “At this point, it would be hard to think he wasn’t.”

“He could just be working with Hawkmoth,” I offered, knowing how weak it was as soon as I said it.

“That is the best, worst case scenario,” he said as he buried his face in my hair.

“What do you want to do?”

“I can’t obviously go on patrol tonight,” he said. “Though I also suspect he might throw an akuma at us, and then dash to my bedroom to see if I’ve disappeared.” He looked at me with those wide, green eyes. The hurt and sense of betrayal were there, though this time not from me. “We still need to formulate a plan for Friday, but I managed to talk my way into a ‘study group’ with you and the rest of Team Miraculous tomorrow.”

I raised a masked eyebrow. “Nice thinking. When?”

“Nine, though I told Nathalie it would be at the library.”

I frowned. “It opens at noon on Sunday.”

“Which is why I told her we’d go for coffee first,” he said, smiling his Chat smile. “At the Bakery, of course.”

“All right, I’ll text Alya and have her bring Nino.”

He looked at me. “We need them back on the reservation,” he said. “I’m not sure my kissing them will break the spell, but do you think if I de-transform in front of them, that might be enough?”

I’d been thinking about that myself. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “And I’m not about to ask Master Fu. It might be worth trying.”

Chat popped open his baton; it had a timer countdown running and was showing less than ten minutes. “I need to go,” he said. 

“I can come with—”

“No,” he said firmly. “I won’t put you into danger. Ever.”

“Chat—”

“This is not up for discussion, Milady,” he said gently, placing a finger on my mouth.

He leaned down and pulled me into an amazingly sensual kiss that curled my toes. “You know how to convince a girl,” I said as he pulled back and prepped to depart.

“I have a reputation to maintain,” he said, green eyes crinkling with his smile. “After all, I am a catsa—"

“Don’t you _dare_ say it,” I warned.

“Good night, Milady,” he said as he bounded up and away.

“Be safe,” I whispered to his departing form.

* * *

## Chat Noir

I left Ladybug in a hurry and threw myself across the night skyline back toward the mansion, circling around to the back alley and dropping down to the cobblestone in a cat-crouch. I’d located the exterior cameras – finally – on my initial exit, and was confident the servant entrance had been ignored. Still, it felt logical to be circumspect, so I remained on all fours as I skulked back to the door, pressed as close to the sour-smelling pavers as I could.

The door was still unlocked, and I pushed my way into the darkened space that had once been our laundry area, carefully scanning to ensure it was empty. I quickly stood, bolted the door shut, and then leapt up into the chute, pausing at the kitchen level with my arms and legs pressed against the interior walls. I didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary, and leapt up another level to pause outside my closet to take stock. 

As I suspected, the room was empty, but I was reasonably certain I had picked up Nathalie’s high heels on the stairway. I moved quickly through the opening in my closet, carefully replaced the drywall, and dropped my transformation before exiting the closet. I knew I had about five minutes left before the microphones in the closet re-activated, well within the margin I’d set for myself.

* * *

## Adrien

In the bathroom proper, I changed into my night clothes and flushed the toilet for good measure. As I exited into my bedroom, I tried to look surprised to see Nathalie entering the space unannounced. “Nathalie?” I said, eyes wide. “Is something wrong?”

She took in my Ladybug themed pajamas (hey, no reason not to lean into their assumptions, right?) and started to say something, thought better of it, and said instead: “Chef has the day off tomorrow. You’ll need to make your own breakfast. Just wanted to let you know.”

“All right,” I said, trying to look nonplussed. Which was easy to do – she had never delivered that particular message before in person.

“Good night,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

Plagg floated out of the bathroom, from where he’d hidden in the clothes hamper. “Wow,” he said quietly. “You were right, she did check on you.”

I smiled and went to the phone in the dock; this time, I queued up an Imagine Dragons playlist, thinking it might throw Nathalie off a bit. Once it started, I dropped onto my bed, Plagg close at hand.

“I thought I was being paranoid earlier,” I whispered. “Now I know I should have been listening to myself all along.”

Plagg smiled at me, warmly; again, not something he did often. “You are truly becoming Chat Noir,” he said. 

“Thanks, I think,” I whispered back. “But how do I handle this? My frigging Father is Hawkmoth.”

“Allegedly,” Plagg reminded me.

I threw an arm over my eyes. “Allegedly,” I repeated, staring at the ceiling. Sleep would not come easily tonight.

* * *

## Marinette

I sat at my desk, staring at the floorplan of the Louvre I had meticulously drawn on my whiteboard but not really seeing it. I was more concerned with what Chat had disclosed earlier in the evening and it was chewing away at me.

_Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth._

I pondered that further. 

_Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth? I know he’s pretty cold with Adrien, but some of the villains he’s thrown at us shows a true streak of dangerous villainy. He could have seriously harmed us – and even killed us – on more than one occasion._

I swirled my chair, idly seeing the multiple posters and cutouts I had everywhere of Adrien. “And you nearly erased your son from the timeline, too,” I murmured. 

I could account for that, though. Until very recently, Gabriel had not suspected Chat was Adrien. 

_But the time travelling bit moved the needle, didn’t it?_ I realized.

What had gone wrong? We were so careful in how we handled Adrien’s re-appearance in the timeline. Had Hawkmoth seen through the ruse? It hadn’t been immediately, had it?

 _The photos_ , I thought. _Chat said they were from the stadium. How had they gotten them in the first place, anyway?_ I found myself wondering. _Maybe they accessed the internal systems…? But clearly we slipped up there, which is why Nathalie was looking at the photos from the Palais._

I stopped swirling the chair. _The ring. She was focusing on the ring._ In a burst of insight, it dawned on me that Rena had made a perfect copy of Chat, right down to the ring he’d been wearing. Which Adrien was also wearing. _At the same time_.

I stared at Adrien on my screensaver. _He said she was comparing the rings on Chat to those on Adrien_. I immediately reached for where the Le Chat Pendant had hung, realizing I had packed away into my jewelry box. _That has to be it,_ I thought. _That was enough for her to start looking. And I wore the pendant as Ladybug. If they have any shots of Marinette…_

Pushing back from my desk, I went to the boudoir and flipped open my jewelry box. The pendant was hanging on a tiny hook in pride of place. Unlike Chat and the ring I’d given him, I hadn’t planned on wearing it full time in both guises. But prior to the memory potion, I had. I traced the figurine with a finger. 

_Can we incorporate this into our plans?_ I wondered.

Chat had made that suggestion earlier – we lean into their suspicion of his true identity. I wandered back to my desk; what would happen, I wondered, if Gabriel did find out that Chat was Adrien?

_Huh. We’ve been so focused on keeping him in the dark; maybe this is the right play._

I sat down again, smiling. _Yes_ , I thought. _This is shaping up to be more like one of those caper movies… we need to point them in the obvious direction and then shift at the last moment. I think we can do that._

I made some notes on my tablet, after referring to the floorplan once more, smiling even wider. _Oh, yeah. That will totally work._

My smile faded slightly, as I considered the tiny problem of Gabriel-as-Hawkmoth. Somehow, we needed to get to the bottom of that as well. So really, then, we had three objectives.

_Keep our friends safe at the Museum._

_Prevent Hawkmoth from uncovering our true identities._

_Somehow discover Hawkmoth’s own identity, or at least cross Gabriel off the list._

“Easy-peezy,” I groaned, putting my head into my hands. This was one of the few times I was feeling the pressure of being the planner in our partnership. Except, this time, Chat had given me the nugget to start with.

 _You know what? We are a_ partnership _. I’m not ashamed to say I need him for this. And_ , I thought, _maybe it will repair things a bit more between us._

“Tikki – spots on!”

* * *

## Ladybug

Once the red transformation glow faded, I snapped open my yo-yo, and smiled to see the illuminated cat paw on my tracker. Clearly someone else was having trouble getting any sleep tonight as well. I swapped to text mode.

> **_LB:_ ** _I’m coming over._
> 
> **_Kitty:_ ** _No way. Not safe! Nathalie has made two unannounced visits already._
> 
> **_LB:_ ** _You’re the King of Stealth._
> 
> I paused.
> 
> **_LB:_ ** _And clearly you were thinking of doing something off book, since you took the time to transform._
> 
> **_Kitty:_ ** _LOL guilty as charged. I was thinking of coming to see you._
> 
> **_LB:_ ** _Stay put._
> 
> **_Kitty:_ ** _Not quite. I’ve not shown you where to enter; meet me on the roof of the building opposite and facing away from my bedroom._
> 
> **_LB:_ ** _OK. On my way._

I clicked off and pushed my way through the skylight and into the night.

* * *

## Chat Noir

I snapped the baton shut and quietly slipped from beneath the sheet and slid to the floor, keeping to all fours and pressed as close to the tile as possible. After dutifully turning out the lights and climbing into bed, I’d not been able to turn my mind off; ensuring Plagg had munched on something, I pulled the sheet over my head once more and transformed, then clicked into data mode on my baton.

I’d been consumed with trying to connect Father with Hawkmoth, and the more I thought about it, I felt like there was a pattern to the akuma attacks. Especially the periods when there were none; for the better part of an hour, I’d cross referenced Father’s business trips with the lulls in akumas. Almost all of the periods lined up exactly. It wasn’t conclusive, but it was definitely evidence.

Ladybug had pinged me after I’d matched up the latest trip. I was extremely worried about her coming to the mansion, but she appeared to have her mind set on the trip, so it would be up to me to make sure she was safe. I accessed my closet for the second time that night (or rather, first time that morning), EM-pulsed the microphones and gently pulled the drywall out to expose the chute. I was concerned that a second “blank” spot on the recording devices might raise suspicions, but I also had no idea how regularly Nathalie was downloading the data. I needed to find an alternative to my alternative.

 _Wonder if I could move in with Marinette?_ I thought idly, bringing a smile to my face.

After double checking the coast was clear, I dropped straight to the basement in one swift and silent move, dropping into my crouch. Quickly checking the GPS on the baton, I knew I had a few minutes before Ladybug arrived, and took a moment to check the other door that was in the space, cracking it open slightly.

The space beyond was much larger than I’d expected, spanning the entire width of the mansion and possibly a little below the front driveway. The door was partially hidden behind a set of file cabinets, so I was able to slip around the door and remain hidden; carefully I moved into the space, using my night vision to work around the well-organized area. Rows and rows of boxes, some tall enough to act as mini-closets, went in all directions. I craftily used a claw to slice open the tape on a few and found various House of Gabriel outfits, many of which I had worn over the years. I had never been down here, but clearly, I was in the vaunted archive Father hid away from everyone.

Against one wall was another row of file cabinets, all locked, and a rack of very high-tech looking computer equipment. Networking paraphernalia was above it with CAT-5 cables running everywhere. There was a single keyboard and monitor in front of the rack. I brushed a claw across the keyboard and the screen burst into life, asking for a username and password. 

I couldn’t help my Chat grin. This was almost exactly what I needed; unless I missed my mark, I’d be able to access those pesky security devices in my room from here. But I would need to be very careful – it would be naïve to assume this area wasn’t swept regularly by either Nathalie or my Father.

As if to emphasize that point, as I started back toward the former laundry area, my feline ears picked up the sound of a mechanical system starting up. Trying to get my bearings, the noise seemed to be coming from below the atelier. I scanned it, but even with my night vision, it was not clear what was causing the noise. I decided to take the opportunity to skulk back out and closed the door behind me.

Once outside, I clawed my way up a downspout that I knew was hidden from the multiple security cameras covering all angles of the exterior of the mansion. I’d not really been surprised at the additional cameras, only that I’d been able to find (with the help of the baton) that there were some blind spots I could use to my advantage. But the paths in and out were pretty restricted, and I vowed to randomize how I used them – at least, until I had enough time to properly load Max’s handiwork.

I made it to the right height on the side of the mansion and flung myself off the roof and over the rear wall, away from the inward-facing cameras and toward the building I’d told Ladybug to wait on. She was there when I landed softly next to her.

She was smiling. “That looked like an unusual obstacle course.”

“It’s not an easy one,” I agreed. “Which is why I warned you away.” I held up my baton. “Here, hold up your yo-yo and I’ll download the safe paths in and out.”

“Paths?” she asked as she pressed her yo-yo to the baton and I did a direct transfer of the maps; she clicked open her yo-yo and raised her masked eyebrows once she saw the route. “Wow. Paths. And none are easy.”

“Yeah. But I should have more control once I load Max’s software.” 

She nodded. “So,” she said. “I’ve got part of our plan ready to go, but I need help with the rest.”

It was my turn to raise my masked eyebrows. “You need… help?”

Ladybug stepped up to me, and squeezed my shoulders. “We’re partners, kitty,” she said with a soft tone. “In all things,” she added, running that divine finger along the edge of my mask. “It’s time that I started to treat you as a _full_ partner and stop trying to shoulder all of the burdens myself.”

“I’ve been telling you that for, like, furrever,” I said, smiling.

“Yes,” she said, “and now, at last, I’m listening.” She looked at me, stepped closer, and snuggled into my chest, wrapping herself completely around my heart. 

I closed my eyes, the worries of the past few days temporarily subsiding into the background. I _needed_ this moment as much as she did, and I pulled her closer, settling my chin on her vanilla-scented hair. We remained in real danger, but for the moment, it was just the two of us, holding each other, reminding us of what we meant to each other. And continued to mean. 

For the first time in days, the deep rumble of a purr bubbled up and out of me, and I had no desire to stop it.


	13. Final Prep

## Adrien

I rolled out of bed a fraction of a second before the alarm on my phone went off. I managed to silence it in a single move and then, bleary eyed, wandered into the bathroom and stared at my tired body in the mirror. It seemed to be a state I was now permanently in – I was nowhere near to getting the appropriate levels of sleep these days. I splashed some water on my face and tried to do something with my hair, which was going in nine million directions courtesy of the tossing and turning I’d done after wrapping up with Ladybug and working on the first part of the project she’d handed me; the product I typically used had cemented most of it in place, making me look like I’d stuck a paw into an outlet.

_Not far from the truth, I suppose._

A shower seemed like too much effort, so I rooted around in the closet for my trusty beanie and tossed on some very non-Adrien looking attire: a black and neon-green Jagged Stone concert t-shirt over a pair of white workout shorts in turn layered over black compression leggings I used for basketball practice. I didn’t normally feel deep muscle fatigue, but I was still quite sore from running after Mister Robot and was looking for any sort of relief I could find. I completed the non-Adrien look with a pair of very ordinary, well-worn black running sneakers with white accents that pre-dated my time as Chat. 

I took a quick spin past the mirror and smiled. The not-so-subtle colors I’d picked, completed by the black beanie, would work perfectly well for what we’d planned this morning. Fashionista Marinette would be apoplectic when she saw me, and, now that I thought about it, so would just about anyone associated with House of Gabriel. I broke into a wide Chat grin as I grabbed my backpack and headed down for breakfast.

Nathalie the sentinel was in position at the dining room door, and though her eyes took in my outfit, she declined to comment. I just nodded at her, well aware that a bang or two had slipped out of the beanie and were framing my face at very odd angles, dropped my bookbag and headed toward the buffet, which, considering the chef was supposed to have the day off, was looking like it did every other day. On the way over, I pulled off the beanie and tousled my hair further just for good measure, making it nearly as wild as Chat’s.

That was a bridge too far. “You’re not going out like that,” Nathalie said flatly.

I hid my smile as I pulled a plate and turned slightly toward her. “I don’t feel like being a walking billboard for Father today, Nathalie,” I said tartly, laying on the surly teenager act Ladybug and I had decided I’d need.

Nathalie decided not to reply and returned to her iPad.

I piled up my plate at the buffet sideboard and plopped into my seat, continuing to channel Chat and consequently feeling a bit freer with my emotions. It was a dangerous mood to be in, especially given my revised understand of Nathalie’s role. My eyes flicked toward her. She was still working on her iPad, but I knew she was also taking in everything at the same time.

_All right. Here comes the next prod._

“I’m almost fifteen,” I reminded her out of the blue. “I _am_ capable of eating by myself now.”

Cold eyes looked at me over the iPad. Without saying a word, Nathalie turned and left.

“I’m still not sure that was wise,” a tiny voice said from my bag.

“No,” I smiled. “But it felt good.”

“Be careful, Adrien,” Plagg said quietly.

I nodded. “Don’t worry, I haven’t fallen completely off the wagon.”

With Nathalie out of the room, I focused more on what Ladybug and I had discussed last night. I liked what we’d come up with together, but we both knew we were missing the last scene of the final act. Getting Hawkmoth to reveal himself to us was going to be tricky; revealing publicly that the supervillain was also Father would, most likely, be the worst thing to ever happen to me.

Hence how little acting it was taking convey my mood.

My phone buzzed and I again broke dining room protocol, siding it out of my shorts and checking it.

**_Nino:_ ** _Dude, Marinette says meet at Bakery? Are you coming?_

**_Adrien:_ ** _Yeah, just wrapping up here at the mansion. See you soon._

I smiled. Right on schedule. Nino might be a little out of the loop at the moment, but was still capable of executing a plan from Ladybug. It was marginally funny that he didn’t yet realize who I was.

The text was my cue to get moving. I pushed back from the table, picked up my bookbag, and started out toward the foyer. Gorilla was waiting by the door, reading the paper.

_So far, so good. Time for the next step._

“I’m going to walk,” I said as I passed him and went out the front door without so much as a backward glance.

“Adrien!”

I stopped at the midpoint of the staircase. Without turning, I said: “I need the fresh air, Nathalie. I’ll have my phone and can call if I need anything.”

“Your father was explicit,” she said from the top. “You’re to be driven. Please, get in the car.”

I turned slightly, intentionally wearing a Chat-like expression. “Or _what?_ ” I growled, with enough force that Nathalie actually backed up slightly. “Father will ground me again? I’d like to see him try.” I turned away and took another step down. 

“ _Adrien_ ,” she said. 

I stopped, knowing I had made my point. Between the outfit and my attitude, enough of my alter ego had percolated out to possibly confirm a suspicion or two. We needed them to think I was Chat.

 _At least, until we don’t,_ I thought.

I pulled out some model tricks and forced a little ire to appear on my face as I and turned back toward Nathalie. “Fine,” I said testily. “I’m sorry, Nathalie,” I apologized as I trudged toward the waiting sedan. “It’s been a long week and this project I’m working on is pretty difficult.”

Her expression softened, slightly. “I understand. Your father just wants you to be safe.”

 _Right_. “I understand,” I parroted as I got into the rear of the sedan. 

Gorilla slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out. I kept to myself, trying to maintain my sullen air outwardly; inwardly, I was paying very close attention to where we were going. I’d never actually told Nathalie _where_ we were going to meet up for coffee.

As I expected, Gorilla pulled up in front of the Bakery. I now had confirmation just how deeply my phone was being monitored; Nino’s efforts had borne fruit. Despite appearances, I’d always intended to be driven. I needed the sedan for the next part of the plan.

I stayed in angry teen mode and threw the door open with enough force that my bookbag conveniently flipped off my arm and fell into the space between the car and the curb. As I had carefully unhooked the bag, books consequently went everywhere, including beneath the car.

“Damn!” I said out loud, and I pulled myself out of the car and kneeled to retrieve my books, angrily (or as angrily as I could make it look) tossing them back into my bag. At length I stood up and slammed the door shut and glared at Gorilla. He turned away from me, shifted into gear and pulled away from the curb.

I tried to suppress my Chat smile as I heard the _crunch_ coming from beneath the rear wheel. Gorilla, of course, would be oblivious, but Nathalie was about to be very, very angry.

I waited as he rounded the corner and went out of view; only then did I have a moment of silence for my dear departed cell phone, now a glittering pile of silicon in the gutter.

_My bad._

I went around to the alley outside the kitchen door and, after ensuring the coast was clear, held out my ring. “Plagg – claws out!”

* * *

## Chat Noir

The green glow faded and I clawed up the side of the Bakery, flipped over the edge of the roof and landed atop my favorite chimney, pausing for a moment to savor the smells of whatever Tom had baking. I didn’t expect anyone to be on the balcony as Team Miraculous was, indeed, waiting for me atop the roof of the library (remember: the first rule about lying is to tell as much of the truth as you can), so I kicked off the chimney and helicoptered my way toward everyone else.

They were assembled in the shadow of the massive dome of the reading room, and I dropped in next to Ladybug. Carapace and Rena were in a deep conversation, heads bowed together. “What’s with them?” I asked as I wrapped an arm affectionately around Ladybug’s waist.

“I dropped the bombshell,” she said simply.

My wide green eyes grew wider. “Did it work?”

“I’m not certain.” She turned to me. “You’re up next.”

“Is this really a good idea?”

“Best we have, unless you want to kiss them, too.”

“Well,” I waggled my masked eyebrows. “Rena, maybe—”

Ladybug smacked me on the head with her yo-yo, and I yelped. “Ow!” I rubbed my head with my paws, an action I’d not done for a bit as she’d gotten quite good at using her yo-yo. “What was that for?”

“You’re _mine_ , kitty,” she said firmly. “I’ve changed my mind: no kisses to anyone else.”

“Now, Ladybug—” I started. I yelped again as she looped the yo-yo around me, and yanked me into her embrace. Before I knew what was happening, she’d planted her lips on mine and I simply melted, the now de rigueur purring rumbling up from my chest. I didn’t care that the yo-yo line was cutting off circulation below my chest.

Somewhere outside my bubble, I heard: “Adrien? Marinette?”

My eyes popped open, and Ladybug retracted the yo-yo. Carapace was looking at me, this time with full recognition; Rena, the same. “You guys remember, now?” I asked simply.

“Dude,” Carapace said, giving me our traditional fist pump. “I feel like a surfer who’s just come up from under the wave.”

I looked to Rena. “All of it,” she said. “And about time, too. It was starting to drive me nuts.”

I turned back to Ladybug. “I stand corrected,” I said giddily.

“On what?”

“It’s not just the power of love, milady. It’s the power of _our_ love.”

\- - -

Ladybug walked through the plan as we’d concocted it so far. Rena and Carapace asked a few questions for clarification, added a suggestion and then agreed to help out. 

“I’ve never done something that large,” Rena said thoughtfully. “I’d like to practice a bit if we can.”

“You and Carapace will hit the museum later,” Ladybug said. “Go in as civilians first, of course, and then once you find a safe position, you can give it a try.” She looked to me. “Chat and I have to make a stop first, and we’ll join you later.” She looked to me. “Adrien needs to be seen here at the library.” 

Carapace looked thoughtful. “Because they are tracking him?”

“Not anymore,” I smiled. “My phone met with an unfortunate accident this morning. I’ll make a panic phone call to Nathalie from a landline here, and then Adrien will frolic in his _very_ appropriate attire at the library.”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at that.

Rena nodded. “Smart move.”

“Now,” Ladybug said, “we come to the tough part of the plan.”

I gathered the crowd, and clicked open my baton and put it into projection mode (another enhancement courtesy of Plagg). I pointed it at the shadiest spot of the dome, and the crowd watched as Chat Noir appeared to land on the windowsill in my bedroom.

“If I’d known we were going to have movie time, I’d have brought popcorn,” Carapace quipped.

“I built this last night,” I said, stifling a yawn at the thought of lost sleep. “We’ve decided that both Adrien and Chat Noir need to be at the Museum. It’s the only way to ensure we can successfully draw out Hawkmoth. Especially,” I paused dramatically, “if it looks like Adrien is in serious danger.”

Rena looked to Ladybug. “I’ve never done two projections at once,” she said. 

“Not asking you to,” Ladybug answered.

I continued the video. “I cut together footage of me from local news stories to do this,” I said. We watched as I entered the room and went off camera; a moment later, I returned, with Adrien by my side. Adrien wrapped an arm around me and then I leapt back out the window.

“Wow,” Rena said. “That’s pretty convincing. You’re going to catnap yourself?”

“That’s the plan. I can trigger this video to insert itself into the security camera feed from my room; up to that point, they will think Adrien is toiling away on the computer, just off camera.”

Rena stepped closer to the paused video. “It’s still a rough cut?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I have more work to do.”

“Let an expert work on this,” she said. She turned to Ladybug. “That’s why you wanted me to bring my laptop.”

“Yes,” Ladybug nodded.

“What software are you using?”

I shrugged. “It’s part of the baton,” I said helplessly. “The controls were pretty tiny. But I can download it for you,” I added as I shut down the projector and popped the storage compartment open to reveal the little USB drive. I’d already moved a copy of the videos I’d worked on to it, and handed the drive to Rena. “It’s in the ‘Museum Video’ folder,” I said. “Try not to click on anything else – I don’t think you want Max’s software on your laptop.”

“Got it,” Rena said as she settled in against the wall and opened her laptop. In short order she was humming to herself as she went to work.

“I’ve never seen her happier,” I said to Ladybug.

“I have,” she replied, using her eyes to point to Carapace, who had the good sense to flame with embarrassment.

“Touché.”

“That brings us to what we do when Adrien ‘arrives’ at the museum,” Ladybug said. “One assumption, likely a safe one, is that we will be dealing with an akuma once the Museum is locked down for the night. Part one of our plan has to happen before that; then, once the akuma is revealed, we need Adrien to be in the line of fire.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Carapace asked.

“It might be improvised, by necessity,” Ladybug said. She looked to me. “I’m not certain if we’ll need Chat to drop his transformation or if our planned Hollywood special effect will pass muster.”

“It has to,” I said. “I can’t be in two places, and Rena will be busy with her part.” I turned back to Carapace. “Part of your scouting mission today is to find the right setup that we can use.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I need a darkened space, possibly with spot lighting that can be adjusted; stairs; mist, and if we are really lucky, a semi-transparent scrim.”

“Not asking for much, are you Chat?” Carapace laughed. “But I see where you’re going. If it’s there, I’ll find it.”

“Done,” Rena said. 

“That was fast,” I said.

Rena smiled. “I actually grabbed some of my Ladyblog footage since it was shot in a higher quality format.” She turned the screen and the three of us huddled around it, re-watching the video. Where mine had been some first-year film student cut, hers looked like Scorsese.

“I’m impressed,” I said with genuine appreciation. “It took me a couple of hours to do what I did!”

“There are several other files in that folder,” Rena said. “Want me to touch them up as well?”

“Those are my ‘Adrien in Danger’ shots,” I explained. “I don’t know exactly what we are going to need so I pulled a bunch of situations together. Have at it.”

Rena nodded and went to work.

“Are we sure we’ll have a place for part two?” I asked, for like the hundredth time. 

“Yes,” Ladybug said. “But Rena and Carapace will confirm that when they are there today.”

We spent the next hour going through the timing, confirming that I (as Chat) would approach Madame Bustier tomorrow and invite myself along to the trip. None of us thought it would be an issue, but we had a backup plan for that, too.

At length, Rena unplugged the drive and handed it back to me. “Done.”

I snapped the baton back open, dropped the USB back into it and stowed it. “That brings us to the final challenge,” I said.

Ladybug blew out a breath. “I’m gonna hold that until after our little side trip,” she said, popping open her yo-yo to check the time. “Besides, you need to make a phone call and these two need to case the museum for us.”

“Good point.” I fist-pumped Carapace and hugged Rena. “Glad you’re both back in the fold.”

“Me, too, dude,” Carapace said.

We parted ways with the duo, and to my everlasting joy, I discovered a downspout that gave directly into a side alley next to the library. After carefully ensuring there were no surprises awaiting me at bottom, I gleefully wrapped my paws around the pipe and slid to the alley, firefighter style. I managed to keep the yelling down in the interest of being discrete.

Ladybug was smirking, and, of course, already waiting for me at the bottom when I dropped into my crouch. “What is it with you and those?”

“Channeling my inner five-year-old,” I said, smiling.

Her mouth quirked. “I thought you did that _all_ the time,” she observed dryly.

 _Ziiing!_

“Through the heart, Milady,” I said, feigning hurt. “Plagg – claws in!”

* * *

## Marinette

The red glow faded and my eyes went wide. “Adrien, what the Hell are you wearing?”

He smiled at me, turning a complete three-sixty to show off his horrific ensemble. “I took you quite literally when you said I should tweak them this morning,” he said. 

“That outfit practically screams ‘I am Chat Noir!’” I exclaimed.

“I know, right?” he said, beaming. As if to further incense me, he pulled several stray locks of that divine blonde hair of his out from beneath his beanie, trying (and failing) to go for some sort of hipster look.

“Stop – just stop!” almost screamed at him, smacking his hands down from the hat. “I can never unsee this,” I muttered as we started down the alley and toward the front of the library. 

It didn’t stop me sneaking a glance at his legs again, though. The tights were far more revealing of his musculature than his Chat costume. Somewhat unluckily, he caught the glance and went into full model-catwalk mode, strutting around the corner and up the steps to the door, humming (I swear to God) _Vogue_. 

I sighed. Whatever he did, however crazy he acted, I knew he was mine. And I loved every bit of it.

_Well, maybe not the beanie. We might have to talk about that later._

We pushed through the main doors and found ourselves in the grand lobby. Harkening back to a bygone era, there was a row of wooden phone closets along one side; Adrien picked the first one and I followed him in, sliding the glass-and-wood door closed behind me. The space was generous, again evoking another time, but cozy enough that my shoulders were brushing his.

He picked up the phone and dialed the operator, looking at me as he did so. “I didn’t bring any money,” he explained. “I’ll have to hope Nathalie accepts the call.”

I waited and watched quietly.

“ _Allô, opérateur? J’aimerais faire un appel de collecte?_ ” he asked of the operator. He waited, provided what I thought was the number for the mansion, and then waited again. He nodded at me, and I knew we were in business.

“Nathalie…? Yes, I’m fine; I’m at the library, but I seem to have lost my phone… I had it in the car, yeah… no, I’m not sure but it could be. We’re going back there this afternoon, so I’ll check…. Yes,” he said, giving me a thumbs up. “I’ll be here most of the afternoon. I’ll call… yes… _Au revoir_.”

“That was smooth,” I observed as he set the phone back into the cradle.

“Maybe,” he replied. “I don’t trust her at all; she’ll likely try to verify I’m here.” He waited, expectantly.

I smiled. “You’re going to use that hideous outfit to get some social media traffic, aren’t you?”

He leaned down and kissed me. “Spot on as always, Milady.” He reached around me and opened the door. “Shall we make an entrance?”

I laughed and followed him into the library proper. We carefully spent the next hour roaming the building, appearing to be conducting research while pointedly making sure plenty of phones were capturing the fashion horror show that was Adrien. By the time we were headed back out a side entrance to head to our next stop, my inbox was full of texts from classmates wondering if Adrien had lost his mind.

“Looks like it worked,” I said as I stowed my phone back in my purse. “Once we’re done with Master Fu, we’ll make another pass through before we regroup with Rena and Carapace.”

“Master Fu?” Adrien frowned. “I thought we were leaving him out of this.”

“I had an epiphany last night,” I said. “I think we need to have a little something up our sleeve just in case plans ‘a’ through ‘d’ fall through.”

His frown deepened. “Like what, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “But when I see it, I’ll let you know.”

The skepticism on his face showed, the lingering aftereffects of the memory potion incident. But his faith in me rallied and at length he smiled. “Of course, milady. Ready?”

I leaned up and kissed him. “Always, kitty.”


	14. Onslaught

## Chat Noir

The week started busy for us and remained cranked to full volume right up to the afternoon we departed for the museum.

Monday morning, I slipped out of Madame Bustier’s class ostensibly to use the restroom; while there, I transformed to Chat Noir and escaped through the window, perching atop the roof of the school to await the bell for the change of classes. My feline ears picked up the clatter a fraction earlier than my human counterparts, allowing me to carefully climb down the outside of the building and gently tap on the window of Madame Bustier’s classroom.

She looked up from where she had been marking papers and registered surprise at seeing my cat face pressed against the glass. The students had left for their next class, giving me about fifteen minutes to make my pitch to her. My teacher came over to the window and propped it open. “Chat Noir,” she said. “What a pleasant surprise.”

That was a first. Most people thought the sky was falling when I appeared. “Madame,” I said flowingly. “Might I have a few minutes of time?”

“Absolutely, come on in.”

I leapt in and landed on all fours, then stood beside her. “I need to ask a favor,” I began, then quickly sketched in what Ladybug and I thought might happen during the class’s overnight stay at the Louvre. “We aren’t one-hundred percent sure,” I finished, “but both Ladybug and I think it would be safer if one of us were there with your students.”

Madame nodded thoughtfully. “I have a spare spot, actually,” she said. “One of our students can’t attend.” She looked at me. “If you don’t mind being paired with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I think I can accommodate you.” 

“Thank you, Madame,” I said. “Now, here is what we want to do…”

I went on to tell her the broad strokes of our plan to safeguard the students, her eyes widening at several points. In the end, though, she was nodding in agreement. “The two of you came up with that?” she said. “I’m overwhelmed with the careful thought that has gone into protecting my students.”

“It was a priority,” I said, hoping she couldn’t see the bags under my cat eyes that had gone into the plan. “I’ll be here when the bus leaves on Friday.”

“And Ladybug?”

I smiled. “She’ll pop in when we need her,” I said knowingly, my eyes flipping to the clock and seeing I had just a few minutes before my classmates would be filing back in. “Until then, Madame,” I said, bowing, and then vaulted out the window, fully intending to return to the restroom to drop my transformation.

Instead, as I flipped up to the roof, it was my jaw that dropped as I saw the Eiffel Tower crumble to the ground in a pile of… corn flakes? 

Was that right? 

Reluctantly, I redirected toward what was left of the Tower, and joined battle with Ladybug against Cereal Boy, the first of not one, not two, but _five_ akumatized villains Hawkmoth threw at us the rest of the day.

Somewhat thankfully, the attacks ended just as the school day wrapped up; Marinette and I managed to stay visible just enough that no one missed us. But we were both wasted as we parted ways for home. I, for one, had fervently wished for a quiet evening, which blessedly we received; I fell into bed at 1900 and slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

Tuesday was worse. We’d barely arrived at school when the entire courtyard became an amazing hedge maze – hedges that had been our fellow students. All of it was watched over by a wild-eyed landscaper with razor-sharp shears; no sooner had we dispatched _him_ when tiny parachutes of disaster started to rain down upon us, turning bystanders into statues with the barest touch. It took some effort to track down the high-flying villain on their helicopter-like aircraft; at one point, I’d hooked my claw on an edge and it had dragged me up high enough that I’d needed to use the oxygen dispenser on my baton.

 _Seven_ more akumas attacked Paris, each one taking significant effort to defeat. At one point, Ladybug and I had barely fed our respective kwamis before having to press them back into service. It was clear by the time we were dragging ourselves home that afternoon that Hawkmoth was trying to soften us up for Friday night.

And it was working.

Wednesday morning, I was having a hard time focusing on anything and was practically mainlining caffeine – both in and out of costume. During one very brief respite around lunch time, Ladybug and I were settled on a random rooftop (I would have been hard pressed to have told you exactly where we had been that day); I was curled into a cat ball, trying hard not to mewl at the deep ache across my entire body, and Ladybug was propped up against the wall, fighting off Morpheus. 

“We can’t keep this up,” I said languidly. 

“No,” Ladybug agreed. “And that is the point, I think.”

“We’re gonna make a mistake,” I pointed out. So far we hadn’t, but that last akuma had been close. It had managed to snag my leg and drag me beneath the river, and I’d been so tired I’d had trouble getting the rebreather function to work on my baton. Ladybug managed to rescue me just as I’d started to black out. If we’d been thinking straight, we’ve have gone in with aqua mode in the first place, given the entire event had taken place underwater.

“I’m calling in Rena and Carapace,” she said. “At the very least, we could use the assist.”

And then we were off again, tackling another four akumas before dinner, although this time with the much valued help from our friends. Again, inexplicably, Hawkmoth ended his rampage as school let out for the day. Ladybug held us on the roof of the school.

“Rena, Carapace,” she started, “I am trusting you with your respective Miraculouses from this point forward. Clearly we are going to be under siege this week, and you’ve proved your mettle. If I ask for them back at a future point, though, you have to promise me you will relinquish them.”

“We will,” Rena said.

“Absolutely,” Carapace added.

We parted ways, but not for as long as I’d hoped. Once back at the mansion, and barely after grabbing something from the buffet, I was forced to sneak out via the laundry chute to take on the ninth akuma of the day with Team Miraculous. I’d been careful but was worried about being missed as Adrien, so much so that I nearly blew protecting Ladybug. At the last, worst, possible moment, I managed to put my body between her and some sort of nasty looking beam of energy from Master Wrapper. I spent the rest of the attack floundering around inside a Chat-sized shirt box, unable (even with claws) to free myself before Ladybug cast her cleansing spell. 

Had I not been so exhausted, I might have remembered I had that little thing called Cataclysm that would have made short work of the box.

We regrouped beneath the moonlight on a sidewalk next to the river, four very tired superheroes. “We need a better plan here,” I said. “We have to assume he’s going to do this to us tomorrow, too.” I yawned, wide enough to expose my molars. “And I have some last prep work I need to do at the mansion before Friday.”

I dropped to the pavement, flat on my back. “I need a cat sick day,” I said morosely. “Everything hurts. Even the tip of my claw,” I said, pointing one to the moon.

“I don’t think we can afford that, Chat,” Ladybug said gently. “But let’s break out into shifts tomorrow.”

I sat up. “That won’t work,” I said. “You _have_ to be out there no matter what. That means the rest of us are gonna be there to support you.”

She smiled tiredly. “True,” I said. “But like I’ve done with you, Rena and I can swap kwamis.”

“Absolutely not,” I said firmly. “I won’t put anyone into danger.”

“I can do it,” Rena offered. “And it makes sense, all of us need to catch a break or Friday is not going to work as planned.”

“ _NO!_ ” I roared, ears flattened. “I’LL NOT RISK ANYONE! I WON’T LOSE ANYONE!”

All three of them were taken aback by the force of my emotion. Ladybug was the first to say something after an uncomfortable silence had stretched on.

“Chat,” she said as she dropped down next to me and picking up a paw. “We are a team, the four of us. We will face this together as we always do. But we have to be realistic. Hawkmoth is intentionally trying to wear us down; if we play by his rules, he’ll win no matter what come Friday.”

I sighed, exhausted. “You’re right, of course, milady,” I said. “I’m just…” I paused, not wanting to verbalize my thoughts – even to my closest allies. After all, I was Chat Noir. I had a reputation to maintain.

“Scared?” she finished for me. 

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Ladybug leaned into me, and rolled me into a hug. “We all are, Chat. I’d be worried if we weren’t.”

“Sorry,” I said to everyone simply. “I guess it’s getting to me.”

“All of us,” Rena amended. 

I sighed. “All right,” I said, “but I will be with each of you. I won’t have Ladybug unprotected, regardless of which one of you is in that role.”

“Chat,” Ladybug started, “that defeats the entire point—”

“Dude,” Carapace said simultaneously, “I’m perfectly capable—”

I held up my paws. “Stop, both of you, just – stop.”

The trio looked at me.

“Rena, you and Carapace take the first patrol from eight to ten,” I said, making a decision. “We’ll swap roles at the morning break, and again after lunch is over at two.” I turned to Ladybug. “I think all four of us might need to feign some sort of illness at school tomorrow, anyway,” I offered. “That might get us a few hours of sleep at the school infirmary.”

“Good point,” she nodded, then turned to the others. “Sounds good?” she asked and we all nodded.

I held up my paw. “Pre-emptive,” I said and we all did a mutual fist bump. “Pound it!”

Thursday arrived and I landed in the infirmary alongside Marinette, complaining about feeling sick to our stomachs. The school nurse raised an eyebrow but nonetheless allowed us a blessed two hours of uninterrupted rest in the back corner of the Nurse’s Office; we “recovered” in time to swap with Alya and Nino, who managed to battle back two nasty akumas while we’d been zonked out (“That yo-yo is hard to spin,” she told Marinette as she dropped the earrings back into her hands).

Almost as if he’d known about the shift change, we only had about two minutes of chemistry class before having to rush out to deal with the first of five akumas he threw at us before midafternoon. The last one, Concreatizer, had been a bit nip and tuck; Cataclysm had barely saved me from becoming part of the footing of one of the newest high rises in Paris.

No rest for the weary, though, as the afternoon dragged on. We needed all hands on deck to clear out the three additional akumas that hit us one after the other. They continued well after classes ended for the day; the only saving grace for me was that Adrien had private tutoring in Chinese on his schedule and wouldn’t immediately be missed at the mansion.

Close to 1800, we readied to part ways one last time with our briefs for Friday. Ladybug lingered as Rena and Carapace headed off into the sunset. “Tomorrow is going to be rough,” she said. 

“No doubt,” I concurred. “Normally I’d have something pithy to add here, but, milady, I’m having trouble staying coherent.”

She laughed. “Get some rest, Chat.”

“I can’t,” I reminded her. “I have a ton of work left to do at the mansion still.”

She frowned. “I’d forgotten about that,” she said. “Do you need help?”

“Yes,” I said honestly, “but it’s too dangerous for you to come. I’ll handle it.”

Ladybug kissed me, and that thrill I got each time she did so rolled up and down my skin. “For luck,” she said.

“Wrong movie, milady,” I kidded. And then I was off to meet Gorilla as Adrien outside my tutor’s house.

* * *

## Adrien

I dropped my transformation in the back alley of the house, and walked around to meet the waiting sedan. Unbeknownst to Father, I’d personally cancelled the tutoring visit but had not told Gorilla otherwise. I slid into the back seat and we quickly returned to the mansion.

Dinner was uneventful, which, for once, I was thankful for. Since the weekend, I’d found myself walking around the mansion as Chat even when out of costume, looking for safe exits and observing _everything_ as if my life depended on it. The continual defensive posture was also taking its toll, and I knew from a logical perspective, that was by design. 

I still felt, though, that the stepped up tempo of akumas was reactionary by Hawkmoth; we had rattled him, badly, and he was trying to regain the upper hand. I left the dining room and retreated to the relative solitude of the bedroom and all of the monitoring devices, and took a long, hot shower to try and relieve some of the tension that seemed to be keeping me coiled up and ready to spring in an instant. 

After changing for bed, I snapped off the lights and pulled the covers up and over my head, waited, and then started in on the next part of the plan. “Plagg – claws out!” I whispered.

* * *

## Chat Noir

Once the glow faded, I was once more huddled under my sheet in full costume. For just a moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the silliness of the situation. Here was the great Chat Noir, hiding in bed. A tiny part of me would have been totally happy to stay there, curled up and comfy, but to paraphrase the great Robert Frost, I still had miles to go before I could get any sleep this night.

I slid the covers back and almost on muscle memory now dropped to the tile and pressed myself close, first skulking over to my desktop. As I neared it, I reached around to my baton and retrieved it; though I was definitely out of camera range, I nonetheless carefully rose up to the system while quietly triggering the storage compartment to open. Feline ears and masked eyes barely above the countertop, I dumped the USB into a paw and gently reached over to one of the ports on my monitor, and inserted the drive. 

The green paw print logo on the drive lit up softly, flashed twice, and went dark. 

_Mission complete,_ I smiled. Max had thoughtfully given me point-by-point instructions, and I knew that meant the malware he’d written was silently working its way into my desktop. I’d kept my paw close and quickly pulled it back out and lowered myself back to the floor, popping open my baton in the process. A few clicks later, I could see (and control) my personal workstation remotely. Twenty minutes later, I had scripted in what “Adrien” would be doing at his workstation tomorrow before being catnapped and snapped the baton closed.

If I did anymore work like this, though, I was going to have to see about a Bluetooth keyboard. Typing code on the baton was getting old, really, really fast.

I dropped back to skulk mode and crept across the tile to the bathroom closet. This next part was going to be trickier; the EM pulse would last between twenty minutes and thirty minutes, and I wasn’t certain if I would be done with the file servers in the basement in that span of time. I was well aware that my reflexes were suffering from our weeklong barrage of akumas, but I’d have to make it work. 

I made quick work of zapping the microphones in the closet, after first scanning and locating a newly added set of microphones; that worried me, but they were toward the entrance of the space. My fervent hope was they were designed to capture more audio from the bathroom, and not because they had inadvertently found my escape hatch; nonetheless, I carefully checked the drywall I’d been removing and none of my tamper triggers appeared to be out of order.

Despite my fraying nerves, I remained on high alert: ears, eyes and nose were all working in conjunction, and in overtime, sweeping the space to the furthest extent possible. So far, I seemed to have gone undetected, but it wouldn’t hurt to be extra cautious.

I pressed my claws into the drywall and removed the section over the clothes chute, checked twice the coast was clear, and dropped cleanly down to the basement in a swift move, landing in my crouch. The space was empty, but I remained crouched as I twisted the baton and retrieved my earwig. I’d set the baton to give me an audible countdown timer so I’d know when I needed to (pardon the expression) bug out.

Creeping to the interior door, I cracked it open and slid an eye to the space. Again, it was dark and quiet. As a precaution, I used the scanning function on the baton to ensure there were no monitoring devices present; my eyes widened when it beeped and indicated there was now a camera on the very door I was hidden behind. That was new.

 _Lovely_.

I closed the door carefully and slid down against the wall beside it. In theory, the EM pulse _should_ disable it; but I was more concerned about the fact it had arrived at all. Had they caught me leaving? Or was it a lucky guess? The door was still hidden behind a set of file cabinets, so I was inclined to believe the later. This complicated matters, greatly. Max had been specific in his instructions – I needed direct access to the server to load the files; I was going to have to risk it.

My earwig softly pinged and announced in Plagg-esque voice: “Eighteen minutes.”

I pushed the door open again, slowly, and kept my feline ears below the “cone of observation” the baton had indicated for the camera. I summoned all of the stealth I could muster and crept toward the server console I’d found earlier. The seconds stretched into eternity; I held the baton out in front of me, the screen turned to night mode, trying to uncover any other unexpected surprises. None appeared.

Sliding the chair out of the way, I stayed in a crouch at just the level needed to scan the rack. There were several promising access points conveniently along the front, but the hair on the back of my neck was standing in warning. Something was wrong with the setup.

“Honeypot,” I breathed quietly, smiling a Chat smile. Those ports were a little _too_ convenient.

I slid sideways, and then dropped under the keyboard rack. It took a few more minutes, but I rooted around enough to come up with a USB access point that had been well hidden. “Gotcha,” I murmured, and deftly clipped in my USB stick, holding my breath as I did so.

The paw print lit up, flashed four times, and went dark.

No alarms started blaring, so I gently pulled out the stick and replaced it in the storage compartment on the baton, then clicked into my on-board VM. A moment later, I was seeing scrolling data; in another console window, I now had full terminal access as the root user.

_Max, I owe you a big one._

Crawling, I worked my way back to the doorway, neatly avoiding the camera, and slipped back into the laundry area and closed the door softly. So far, so good.

I paused, straining to hear anything unusual; my feline ears picked up just the faint hiss of the light traffic for the late hour, and that someone had just flushed a toilet on the third floor. 

Then: footsteps on the mezzanine, heading down.

Quickly, I moved to the chute and leapt upward, holding position halfway before leaping again up and through the opening in the closet. With practiced ease, I slid the drywall back into position and rearranged the clothing once more; a few moments later (and well ahead of my deadline) I was back beneath the sheets. I could still hear the footsteps, and they had continued on past my bedroom and down toward the foyer, so I held off transforming.

Instead, I pulled out my baton and clicked back into the main systems for the house. It took just a moment to find the overwhelming number of cameras Father had stationed everywhere; my masked eyebrows couldn’t go any higher in amazement. Scrolling, I located one for the foyer and clicked to the live feed.

On my tiny screen, Father was just heading into the atelier. That wasn’t unusual – he worked extremely odd hours. I shifted cameras to the atelier, and found one pointing toward the safe I’d found, and frowned. I tried a few more times but could not come up with any other angles in that space. Clearly I’d not needed to be worried about them seeing me at Nathalie’s desk.

Dispassionately, I found the disparity between the invasion of my privacy and the lack of same with Nathalie a bit ironic. But it also meant I had no way of seeing what was going on; that had to have been the point, I suppose. Father was clearly worried someone might try to do just what I was doing. I could almost believe it was born from a fear of his fashion intellectual property being stolen, but knew it was something else entirely. 

_Don’t want Hawkmoth on video, do you, Father?_

I heard the front door open, and flipped back to the foyer. Nathalie was entering, which, too, was not unusual given she was practically on call for Father. She also entered the atelier. Curiosity was now burning away my fatigue. What were they talking about down there? I decided I had to know. 

It was just as good a chance as any to test our preparations.

I shifted to Max’s program, and using the scripting tools he’d provided, quickly crafted a duck blind that would hide my departure from the bedroom via my traditional exit. By the time I was done, the cameras covering the bedroom and exterior of the house were all on a loop from earlier video, and the microphones were being fed generic room noise; all would continue that way until I released the code from the baton.

“May fortune favor the foolish,” I said quietly, and threw back the sheet.

Just to be safe, I used the baton to confirm the “cone of detection” from the camera facing the window was offline, and the quietly pushed the window open. For the first time in a few days, I somewhat gleefully clambered out the window and into the moonlit night.


	15. Last Minute Adjustments

## Gabriel

“They turned them all back,” Nathalie said. “Despite everything you threw at them.” 

“Yes,” he said as he stood in front of the painting of his wife, hands clasped behind him. “They make quite the team. But I think we are wearing them down, as planned; Chat especially seemed to be more and more off his game as the week progressed.”

“I don’t see how that helps us,” she said.

“If he – if _they_ – aren’t sharp, they are not going to be able to react fast enough to our shifting strategy,” he said simply. “And that, finally, puts the odds back into our favor.”

He turned. “We’ve done everything we can to ensure that Adrien remains safe,” he said. “If he is not Chat Noir, no harm will come to him as he’ll be sheltered here in the mansion. And, if I am able to obtain the Miraculous, he’ll have never known what happened in the first place.”

“And if he’s Chat Noir?” Nathalie looked at him, hard. “What will you do then?”

He paused, turned and looked at the various framed prints of Adrien that ran along a wall of the atelier. “Hawkmoth will ensure that Chat Noir will have no option but to give up his Miraculous, one way or the other. In the end, if he’s successful, it won’t matter _what_ happens to Chat.” He turned back. “And Chat will do anything to protect the love of his life.”

Nathalie nodded. “Ladybug.”

“It’s unfortunate they’ve been so public about their feelings,” Gabriel said, smiling grimly. “But it’s an opportunity that can be leveraged. Now is the time to do so.” He turned back. “Get some rest.”

“All right,” she said, and she quietly exited the atelier.

Gabriel returned to the painting of his wife. _I am very close, my dear. Closer than ever before._

## Chat Noir

I’d leapt to the roof and then skulked over to the side of the mansion where the atelier was housed, and crept back down face first using my claws, Spidey-style. The curtains were drawn across the tall windows, so I wasn’t able to see inside the space, but I didn’t need to. Instead, I crept as close to the window as I could and pressed a feline ear to the glass. The sound was muted, but clear enough for my enhanced senses.

“…do then?” I heard Nathalie saying.

“Hawkmoth will ensure Chat Noir will have no option but to give up his Miraculous,” I heard my Father respond, “one way or the other. In the end, it won’t matter _what_ happens to Chat. And Chat will do anything to protect the love of his life.”

I grimaced. While I wasn’t used to hearing Father monologuing like a villain, it _was_ tactically interesting to know that we had correctly puzzled out what their play would be; I smiled a wide Chat grin. 

_Two_ can _play this game, Father,_ I thought in his general direction. _Bring it._

“It’s unfortunate they’ve been so public about their feelings. But it’s an opportunity that can be leveraged. Now is the time to do so.”

I pulled back, breaking contact with the glass though still hanging upside down over the crown of the window. That was more like Father, using emotional pressure points to his advantage. I’d been blind to the common personality traits he’d shared with Hawkmoth, though I still couldn’t fathom what the endgame would be should he ever obtain the Cat and Bug Miraculous. 

It was going to take a miracle now to redeem him. Or some Ladybug Luck.

The front door opened, and my feline ears heard footfalls moving down the steps. I pressed myself against the mansion and further into the shadows, narrowing my eyes so they wouldn’t be as visible. Nathalie came into view and moved at a good clip through the gates and out onto the street. She gave no indication that she’d seen me, but I waited, motionless.

A moment later, Nathalie came back around the corner, searching for something in her purse. I reacted to the movement and quickly shifted my position further away from her and toward the rear of the mansion as quietly and stealthily as I could. It was barely in time: I missed the beam of her flashlight by a fraction of a second as she played it over the window, almost directly where I’d been hanging upside down.

I kept moving as she deliberately continued down the side of the mansion. I wasn’t sure what she’d seen – my costume by design generally made me untraceable in the dark, but I’d messed up somehow.

_Merde. The bell._

She had to have caught a reflection from the moonlight on my bell when she rounded the gate.

Still upside down – I didn’t want to attract any more attention by rotating suddenly – my paw reached the rear corner of the mansion and one of its many downspouts. If she came much further, my profile was going to be very evident. I flattened myself against the brick and held my breath.

Nathalie stopped halfway down the alley, seemed to convince herself that she’d not seen anything, and returned to the front. Not surprisingly, I heard her re-enter the mansion, presumably to check the cameras. I waited a fraction of a heartbeat before flipping around and using the downspout in reverse, vaulting up and over the roof; I caught a claw on the tile and used it to surf into a tuck-and-tumble back into my bedroom, landing in a crouch in the darkness of the bedroom. I gently closed the window and leapt from there directly to the bed, pulled the sheets up and over my feline ears, and popped open the baton.

The program was still running, so I terminated it – hopefully before Nathalie had been able to log into her workstation and start checking. Feeling paranoid, I kept my eyes firmly glued on the foyer camera, and my feline ears strained to hear any precursor to an unwelcome visitor. It took about twenty minutes before Nathalie reappeared on the foyer camera and left the mansion for the second time, clearly satisfied that she’d not seen anything after all. Only then did I start breathing normally.

Still, I wasn’t feeling safe enough to transform back to Adrien. Frankly, I was more than a little bit freaked out, all of the fears and emotions I’d been holding in check suddenly crashing in on my very tired psyche. I had no _intention_ of sleeping now, but also knew I was just exhausted enough that I might nod off as Chat Noir. I popped to the texting option on the baton.

**_Chat:_ ** _You awake?_

**_LB:_ ** _No. lol._

**_Chat:_ ** _I need a friend. Kitty is scared._

**_LB:_ ** _Safe for a visit?_

**_Chat:_ ** _I have control now. Window will be open._

**_LB:_ ** _I’m on the roof opposite._

**_Chat:_ ** _WTH? Are you stalking me Milady?_

**_LB:_ ** _Hah. Takes one to know one. But was worried. Now open the damn window._

**_Chat:_ ** _One second._

I flipped over to the MaxPass (I was trying new names for the code) and repeated my earlier work, resetting the cameras on the mansion and, essentially, muting the microphones. I slipped out of the bed and vaulted to the window, then pulled it open.

**_Chat:_ ** _Read-_

I didn’t finish the message. Ladybug came through the window and tackled me to the floor in one smooth move, wrapping me in the hug-of-hugs as she did so. We rolled a few times and wound up in the middle of the floor; I was on my back, staring up at her beautiful blue eyes.

“That was quite an entrance,” I said, my voice strained. 

She leaned down and kissed me, then rolled off and snuggled in by my side. Together, we companionably watched the stars through my window.

“Milady—” I started.

“Shush,” she said. “Get some rest.”

Under other circumstances, I would have fiercely remained awake in order to ensure her protection; but I was so exhausted, I almost immediately dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

A subtle buzz from my back gently woke me, and I cracked open a feline eye to find that I had curled myself around Ladybug, catlike. She’d gracefully turned away from me, keeping it platonic, but I’d likely pushed the boundary slightly with the arm I’d wrapped over her. I gently pulled it back and carefully slid away from her; she sighed and stretched.

“You’re awake, Chat?” she said quietly.

“Yes, Milady,” I replied, pulling the baton out and seeing the program was still running; the buzz was a warning that the loop on the cameras might not synch with the current time of day. It was less than an hour from daybreak; I managed to snag a few hours of rest and was feeling if not completely refreshed, a little closer to normal. “You need to get home,” I said, propping myself up on an arm. “But first, I need to know something.”

She turned slightly to face me. “And that would be?”

“Will you still respect me in the morning?” I asked gleefully, total Chat grin plastered on my face.

I was rewarded with a yo-yo thunk to the mane. “Ow!” I yelped, rubbing the spot with my other paw. “What was that for?”

“’Wrong thinking will be punished,’” she quoted.

My feline eyes widened. “Are you… are you _quoting_ _Star Trek_?”

“I am,” she said. “And the next line is…?”

I leaned in and kissed her. “Message received. Now get home, please, Milady. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

She started to get up, and I put an arm on her shoulder. “And,” I added, “thank you.”

Ladybug smiled. “Always, kitty.”

She shot her yo-yo out the window and was gone. Hopefully for the last time, I crawled back into bed, pulled the covers over my head, deactivated the program and then dropped my transformation.

## Adrien

Somehow, I managed to get another few hours in before Nathalie roused me for school. Unlike a normal teenager, I hadn’t immediately requested a replacement for my now smashed cellphone; I knew, sooner or later, they’d present one to me, but until then, she had become the de facto alarm clock.

After the usual shower and prep for school, I was rewarded with two surprises at breakfast.

Nathalie handed me a brand new phone as I entered the dining room. “A replacement for the one that appears to have been lost,” she said, double entendre anything but subtle. “I have taken the liberty of reloading all of your apps and personal data from the cloud for you.”

 _Plus a few other goodies, I’m sure._ Outwardly, I went for Teen Excitement. “Wow! Thanks, Nathalie!” I enthused, working the model magic a bit hard. I don’t _think_ she picked up the passive aggressive.

Then came the second surprise.

“Also, your Father will not be joining you for dinner this evening.”

That wasn’t it.

“As the House of Gabriel is one of the sponsors of the Night at the Museum program, he’ll be at the Louvre tonight and won’t return until… he’s finished there,” she explained.

I tried to remain impassive. “Fine,” I said, my mind racing. 

_Gabriel Agreste will be at the Louvre tonight. And he’s gone to great pains to make sure Adrien won’t be. It’s another test – I’d bet one of my feline ears Nathalie is planning on babysitting me with the intent to catch me leaving as Chat so she can warn him._

I tried not to smile. This was exactly what we needed. Part of our plan relied on them thinking they had made the connection only to rip that away from them later. But I was cognizant that they might also be trying a double blind on _us,_ as well.

Nathalie turned to leave me to eat, and I called out to her. “Thanks again for the phone,” I said.

She paused, nodded, and left.

Gorilla had me to school on time as usual, and I cornered Marinette at the first opportunity so I could fill her in. Her eyes widened as she came to the same conclusion. “If we assume they think we are up to something ourselves tonight, this has to be looked at skeptically. On the other hand, if they are convinced their plan has no flaws, this is the break we needed.”

I nodded. “As I said, I’m sure Nathalie will be stationed at the mansion, so I’ll be feigning an excuse to get home early. Chat still needs to meet the bus on time this evening.”

Marinette sipped on her café latte, and as part of her continuing apology tour, she’d brought me her take on something called Mexican Hot Cocoa. “The real version has chocolate liqueur in it,” she’d said apologetically, “so I had to make a substitution.” The chocolate-cinnamon-steamed cream concoction had a tiny kick of chili powder in the background and was surprisingly delicious. I’d still prefer Tom’s coffee, but I’d loved the gesture.

“You’ll have enough time?”

“Yes,” I said, sipping my cocoa. “I don’t quite have the timing down on when I will catnap myself, but that will become clearer once I’m home.”

She nodded. “Are you worried about Gabriel announcing he’ll be there?”

“I am,” I said. “I know it’s what we wanted, but now it feels _real_. It’s no longer academic I’ll have to face my own Father in a few hours.”

Marinette hugged me gently. “Listen,” she said lightly, “it wouldn’t be the first time a teenage boy had gone up against an overbearing father. It’s a tale as old as time.”

I rolled my eyes, but spared her a response as the bell for first class had started to ring.

Unlike the prior part of the week, we made it to two o’clock without a single akuma attack, which, oddly, had a negative effect on me. I’d been expecting another day of hand-to-hand combat, and the lack of it had left me wound up tighter than a drum. Moderate breathing exercises helped a little, but as I came down the steps to the courtyard, I felt viscerally my need to stay close to Marinette and protect her.

She must have seen the wild look in my eyes and came directly over to me. “It’ll be fine,” she said gently. “Get home and then hurry back,” she finished, planting a sweet kiss on my cheek.

I nodded, hugged her, and then made my way out to the waiting sedan. I’d texted Nathalie that I was sick to my stomach and wanted to come home; judging from how I was actually feeling, it wasn’t very far from the truth.

## Marinette

Adrien was looking stressed out. 

I nearly followed him into the sedan in an attempt to try and calm his nerves; despite _my_ outward appearance to the contrary, I was very much on edge as well and had offered up what little solace I could muster to him already. I started up the stairs toward class instead, replaying the events of the morning in my own attempt to center myself.

I’d been right to worry about him last night. After we’d parted so he could take care of his computer work, I’d dithered and then decided to discreetly trail him back to the mansion and keep watch over my kitty. He’d disappeared back into the massive home; I settled in on a rooftop opposite that gave me a good view, and had managed to stay awake long enough to see him come vaulting out of his bedroom window.

That concerned me enough that all thoughts of sleep had been banished, and watched him tip over the side edge of the mansion and appear to press an ear to a window. Fascinated, I hung around and was dismayed to see how Nathalie very nearly discovered him. I wasn’t sure what she’d seen – _I_ only knew he was there because I’d tracked him from the window; otherwise, he’d been nearly indistinguishable from the shadow he’d been hiding in.

Trouble seemed to be brewing when I watched him vault high over the roof a final time and neatly surf across the tile toward his bedroom, catching a claw and tumbling into his room. Leaving now was impossible; I’d been prepping to storm the mansion only to receive his text message a bit later.

As I slid into my seat in the classroom, a warm smile came to my face as I recalled how he’d finally surrendered to the fatigue, coiled his cat form around me and fell into deep slumber. I’d had to rearrange a paw or two in the name of virtue, but overall he’d remained a gentleman.

Knowing what was going to happen this evening, and wanting desperately to get to the main event seemed to have the opposite effect on time: the afternoon dripped by, horrifically slow. I had no ability to stay focused on what the teachers were discussing, and on more than one occasion, surreptitiously pulled out my cell phone and texted Adrien in a very un-Marinette like maneuver.

Both of us were aware the line was being monitored on his new phone and kept the conversation appropriately teenager-worthy.

**_Marinette:_ ** _Are you feeling better?_

**_Adrien:_ ** _Not really. Worse maybe._

**_Marinette:_ ** _Go to your happy place. I’ll text you when you are there._

**_Adrien:_ ** _Not a bad idea. Enjoy calculus._

**_Marinette:_ ** _Way to ruin the moment._

I waited until we had a natural break in class and escaped, ostensibly to use the restroom. Instead, I flew down the steps and into the courtyard, found our hidden corner, and transformed.

## Ladybug

Slipping out via the maintenance stairway, I trotted to the roof and snapped open the bug phone. I didn’t even have to speed dial – Chat’s image popped up immediately.

“Milady,” he smiled, tiredly. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I needed to check in with my kitty,” I said. “Breath, Chat. You look terrible.”

“As you wish, Milady,” he said, mustering a bit of laugh. 

“Where are you?” I asked, since his face seemed to be lit by his phone.

“The Chat Cave,” he laughed, genuinely this time. “It’s my new favorite hideaway.”

“You’ll have to show me later,” I said. “Ready to go?”

“No,” he replied, frowning. “But I will be.” He looked at something on his baton. “In fact, it’s just about time for me to get everything rolling.”

I blew a kiss at the screen. “See you on the bus.”

He returned the gesture. “I’ll be there with a bell on.”

## Chat Noir

I snapped the baton shut and leaned my wild mane against the cool concrete wall of the laundry room. I had a few minutes left before the EM pulse would wear off, and I tried to use these final moments of quiet to tamp down the turmoil in my soul. It was going to be a tough evening, and I would need every ounce of resilience to make it to tomorrow.

The baton chirped the five-minute warning and I sprung up and then leapt back to the closet, carefully replacing the drywall and re-covering it with clothes. I dropped to a crouch in the darkness of the closet and flipped to MaxPass, took a deep breath, and triggered my overrides on the security system.

It was game time.

Everything came up green across the board: I’d successfully obtained control and started the feeds for the video and audio. I twisted the baton and removed my earwig and initiated the voice interface, then listened in to the audio: I could hear someone clacking away at the desktop keyboard, and smiled. I was in business.

I flipped screens and queued up the catnapping video; I was planning on triggering it once I’d rejoined Ladybug, but it also had a backup timer in case I was somehow unable to access the program. It wouldn’t hurt to have my bases covered.

I paused there – I had one more script to trigger, and was uncertain if I wanted to go that far. It, too, was on a timer, and would run much later in the evening. I took another deep breath, realized this represented the point of no return, and hit the illuminated _start_ link.

There was nothing left to do at that point save for exiting. Skulking no longer required, I calmly slid the bathroom door open and simply walked out to the bedroom, placed the baton in its spot, and vaulted out the now-open window.

## Marinette

We loaded the bus on time, and I settled in beneath one of the emergency hatches about halfway back. Madame Bustier had informed everyone that Chat would be joining us but had left the exact reasons a bit vague; that didn’t stop the class from making furtive glances in my direction, since the only available seat left was the one next to me. It was painfully obvious who my Field Trip Buddy was supposed to have been – and who was now stepping in for him, again. I smiled. 

Alya and Nino were at the front of the bus; per our plan, they needed to get into the museum in a hurry and would be exiting before the rest of the class. 

As we pulled out into the street, I heard a faint _thump_ on the roof of the bus and looked upward expectantly. The emergency hatch opened and in a smooth move, Chat dropped directly down into his awaiting seat. “Purrincess,” he said as the hatch closed automatically.

“Right on time, Chat,” I smiled.

He leaned in. “Is it appropriate for me to kiss you?” he asked quietly.

“It might be best if you didn’t,” I replied with a smile.

Chat growled and folded his arms. I think his tail was twitching too, but I couldn’t see all of it. It made me feel bad enough that, once I was reasonably sure no one was watching us, I quickly reached up and scratched that _one_ particular spot he had behind his feline ear. I saw his eyes widen in shock, and then press closed in that blissful expression I loved to see him wear. I stopped before his purring got out of hand.

“I needed that,” he said as I pulled away, his eyes still closed. “I don’t suppose you make personal catcalls…?”

“On occasion,” I said, trying to keep from laughing. 

“All right,” he said, cracking an eye. “Time to let our friends in on the gig?”

“Almost,” I said, fishing around in my purse for the small packet Master Fu had given me. I sliced it open and dumped the contents into Chat’s waiting paw. “That one is yours,” I said. “Make sure you keep it handy, in case we need it.”

He raised a masked eyebrow. “You’re sure you can pull this off?” he asked as he did as he was instructed and slid it into a costume pocket. “ _I’ve_ only just mastered---”

“I practiced all night,” I replied, cutting him off. “Now, let’s fill in our classmates.”

“Okay,” he said. He pulled out his baton and snapped it open. “Here it goes,” he said as he tapped a claw on his screen, then looked back at me. “Done.”

“Knock ‘em out, kitty,” I said.

Chat bounced out of the seat, rolled down the aisle and tumbled into a stand at the front of the bus. “Hey, everyone,” he said cheerfully, channeling some of his model abilities to try and keep his tone light. “I know everyone was expecting a fun night tonight at the museum, but I’m afraid we’re going to have a bit of a change in plans…”


End file.
